Practice
by themagicofgina
Summary: Kurt and Blaine finally got together, and it's all jolly hockey sticks. But now they need to make it Facebook official. And tell Burt.
1. Stupid Jeff

_**Disclaimer: I own nada. Simples.**_

Blaine Anderson didn't skip. Particularly in the halls around Dalton – even though it wasn't specified, he was pretty certain that it was encompassed by the 'no running' clause of their behaviour code. And even if Dalton encouraged it, it didn't really fit in with his dapper, lead soloist, top pupil, out-and-proud-but-not-a-walking-stereotype-I-mean-c'mon-I-like-football image. So he didn't. Skip, that was.

However, if Blaine did occasionally indulge in skipping (which he didn't) he would definitely be doing so now. He'd be dancing and prancing and leaping and bounding and back flipping his way towards the Junior Commons. Because that was where Kurt was waiting for him, and wherever Kurt was, Blaine wanted to be. As soon as physically possible. School had ended half an hour ago, but because Blaine had had to discuss a submission of one of his English essays into a competition with his professor, Kurt had said that he would wait and then they could go and get coffee. Blaine loved that. Kurt would wait. For him. Kurt was waiting for him. He'd never had someone to wait for him before, and if Blaine had been slightly less dapper he probably would have squealed at the prospect, but as he was the epitome of charming he settled for merely smiling.

"Zut alors, Jeff!" Kurt's exclamation carried clearly down the oak-panelled corridor from the commons to where Blaine was, "Il n'est pas si compliqué!"

"Kurt! I have no idea what you're saying!"

"Etes-vous mentalement déficient?"

"I don't understand!"

Blaine was torn between several emotions as he quickened his pace down the hallway. He allowed himself to be dominated by how unbelievably attracted to Kurt he was when he spoke French for a moment before embracing the sheer euphoria he felt at hearing his voice, even if it was just spitting out insults in a foreign tongue. However, the slightly less rational part of his brain had gone into panic mode and somehow managed to shout down all of his saner thoughts – what was Kurt doing speaking French with Jeff? With Jeff-Something-Happened-At-Nick's-Summer-House-But-We-Don't-Talk-About-It-Jeff? He founding himself full of hatred for Jeff, suddenly. Hated how stupidly tall he was, hated his stupid blonde hair, hated the fact that he was so bad at French that he needed a tutor. He especially hated that Kurt was his tutor, and that Kurt hadn't told him that by waiting for him, he meant tutoring Jeff. Stupid Jeff.

Fortunately, that part of Blaine's conscious was quickly silenced as he stepped into the commons and he had to remind himself how to breathe. Even though he'd only seen him 2 hours ago, he still felt his heart rate quicken as his gaze fell on Kurt pacing around the sofa, ranting fluently in French at Jeff, who looked completely dumbfounded by it all. Thoughts of his stupidity were overwhelmed by a sense of pity for the boy – Kurt did look pretty scary right now. Sexy, Blaine observed, but still scary.

"Je jure devant Gucci que vous avez la mémoire d'un poisson rouge. Un poisson rouge vraiment stupide…"

"Did you just call him a very stupid goldfish?"

"Wait, what?"

"Enfermer, Jeff. Et vous, Blaine. Oh." Kurt snapped abruptly. Then he realised what he'd just said and stopped pacing so he could turn to face the doorway. "Blaine…" he sighed, his face spreading out into a wide grin.

Jeff pretended to vomit.

"Hey babe," Blaine couldn't stop his own features from doing something similar to the beautiful boy's in front of him. Kurt looked stunning – Blaine just probably looked goofy.

"I thought your meeting with Howard would take longer," Kurt said breathlessly.

"Same. But it didn't."

"I'm glad."

"Me too."

They lapsed into silence, simply content to stare at each other for a moment.

"Right, I'll leave you to moon at each other then…" Jeff awkwardly tried to hold back laughter as he rose to his feet and gathered his books, rather ruining the moment as he did so. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. And use protection. We don't want any gay babies running around."

"Imbécile…" Kurt rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling good naturedly, so Blaine figured Jeff was safe enough.

"Yeah, I do know what that means!" Jeff called back over his shoulder, "Not a complete idiot, Kurt."

"Debateable."

"Va te faire foutre!"

"You've taught him well…" Blaine chuckled as he took a step closer to the sofa, closing the distance between them slightly.

Kurt merely gave another eyeroll. "Yes, he can now swear in French. I deserve an award. Dalton should take me on their payroll," he drawled sarcastically.

"I wouldn't mind having you as my teacher."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"I'll bear that in mind. Coffee?" Kurt flitted daintily over to where Blaine stood and extended a perfectly manicured hand.

"Always ." Blaine reached out and intertwined their fingers. "By the way, have I told you how sexy you are when you speak French?"

"Non. Tu veux dire comme ce?"

Blaine bit back a groan. The things Kurt Hummel did to him…

* * *

><p>He wanted to do a happy dance after he'd taken that first sip. Genuinely wanted to leap up on the table and bust out some moves. He didn't, for fear of causing a scene in the packed coffee shop, and getting them both barred, and while right now he couldn't care less about that, Kurt would most likely pitch a fit. And he didn't particularly want that to ruin their epic semi-date.<p>

"Is it okay?" Kurt asked nervously. "Did I get it right?"

Blaine chuckled. "It's perfect. You're perfect." And it was, and at that moment, Kurt was too.

"Good," Kurt exhaled a sigh of relief. "I know how fussy you can get about your coffee!"

It might have seemed like a slight over reaction to one cup of medium drip, but to them, it was momentous, just like when they'd first learnt each other's coffee order. The Lima Bean was absolutely jam packed, and it was only through sneaky tactics that they managed to get a table. However, these sneaky tactics had Blaine dashing about the place, inspecting every other customer briefly but carefully to see whether they indicated any signs of leaving soon, whilst Kurt was in charge of ordering and then finishing off the coffees. And he'd gotten Blaine's right. Without asking. His own mother couldn't remember his favourite colour, yet this boy he'd known for 5 months knew exactly how he liked his coffee. It took all of Blaine's efforts not to just sit there, gawping at him in awe.

"Almost as fussy as you are about your hair," Blaine shot back, smirking.

"Hey, it's all for a good cause - I'm hot stuff, I'll have you know," Kurt shoved his nose in the air and huffed, but his glass eyes were sparkling with mirth.

"Damn straight you are," Blaine agreed in a low and sultry tone, causing Kurt to blush furiously and immediately become very absorbed in his coffee. They passed the next few minutes in silence, in which Kurt stared intently at anything but Blaine. Blaine on the other hand couldn't peel his gaze away from the boy opposite him, whose cheeks were turning pinker every second. Blaine didn't care – he was completely entranced, devouring every inch of Kurt's face with his eyes.

"Okay seriously, Blaine - do I have something on my face?" Kurt snapped, drawing Blaine's attention away from his jawline for a second.

"What?"

"You just keep on staring…"

"You're gorgeous and you're my boyfriend. I'm allowed to stare," Blaine reasoned, shrugging, "Plus that pimple on the end of your nose is massive."

Kurt froze, coffee cup half to his mouth. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, it's massive. I can barely see your face," he teased.

"I really don't care about that right now," Kurt shook his head, slamming his cup down. Blaine's triangular eyebrows shot up to his hairline in shock, but didn't interrupt as Kurt took a deep breath and started to speak measuredly, "Did you mean what you said… About me… being your…"

"Being your what?" Blaine pushed when Kurt's nerve seemed to fail him and he faltered.

"Boyfriend. This. This is boyfriends?"

Blaine couldn't help but laugh. Kurt didn't like this, and his features twisted into a frown.

"Clearly not…" he muttered.

"No, no, no!" Blaine protested, still spluttering slightly, "It's just… well, your question sort of surprised me that's all. I thought it was obvious."

"Oh?" Kurt still looked slightly dubious, so Blaine hurried to explain himself.

"Well, what else would we be?" Blaine asked, cocking is head to one side, "We spend nearly every second of our days either with each other or talking to each other or texting each other or just… well involved with each other."

"We did that before, Blaine," Kurt pointed out.

"We didn't make out as much before."

Kurt turned dark crimson again.

"Have I told you how adorable you are?"

"Yes, repeatedly."

"Oh. Well, I'll say it again. You're adorable."

"Stop trying to change the subject!"

"Sorry. We were talking about making out?"

"Blaine!"

"Sorry!" Blaine threw his hands up in defeat, "I've never done this before, not really sure what the protocol of the 'where are we going in this relationship' discussion is."

"Me neither." Kurt sighed, but with rather less annoyance in his tone than before, and he reached out his hand to take Blaine's.

"Kurt, listen, we like each other, right?" He looked to Kurt for confirmation, who nodded firmly and smiled, "We're definitely some form of together, and everyone at school knows… why wouldn't I call you my boyfriend?" Blaine absentmindedly ran his thumb over Kurt's porcelain skin as he spoke, "I mean, why shouldn't I call you my boyfriend?"

Blaine's voice had cracked slightly, however his gaze did not falter after he finished speaking, watching Kurt anxiously and waiting.

"I feel like an idiot now," Kurt admitted quietly after a moment's reflection.

"You're not an idiot, Kurt."

"I didn't say I was an idiot. I said I felt like an idiot. Difference."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologise when I'm just being a bitch. It makes me fall for you all over again for being so damn sweet," Kurt groaned,

"Sorry," Blaine offered coyly, grinning at Kurt over his medium drip.

"Don't push your luck, Anderson," Kurt reprimanded with an eye roll.

"Sorry. Oops, unintentional, I promise," Blaine backtracked upon receiving his nearly-boyfriend's patented death glare, "Anyway," he reverted to the original topic deftly, "How come you _feel_ like an idiot?"

Kurt sighed. "Blaine, ever since you sang about your skin-tight jeans that time in the Senior Commons, they have pretty much dominated my thoughts. And now here we are, and rather than singing with joy, all I can do is obsess over the tiny, insignificant details – like how I can't run my fingers through your hair without getting gel gunk all over my fingers, and worrying about whether teachers are going to tell us off for being inappropriate in the halls, or what will happen if we run into the football team when we're out together, and what's Mercedes going to say when I finally tell her, and how I'm going to hide my Dad's gun when I tell him and are we ever going to be Facebook official and…" His talking speed had rapidly increased throughout the duration of his rant, and it was only through tapping in to his almost bat like hearing that Blaine had been to separate the blur of words at all. He held up his hands, indicating for his almost-boyfriend to stop.

"Whoah, babe, slow down," he laughed, interrupting Kurt's rambling, "I don't even know where to start on that, without you adding more to the mix…"

"I was pretty much done anyway," Kurt shrugged. "I can save the rest for later."

"I'd appreciate that. Firstly, I'll lay off the gel, if you want. Unleash the beast, so to speak." Kurt's jaw dropped open for a second, before he regained rational thought, features rearranging themselves into a smirk. He nodded and gestured slightly with his hand, indicating Blaine should continue. "Second – don't worry. I know what we can and can't get away with around Dalton. So as tempting as it is sometimes, I will resist from jumping you in the hallways. Third of all, we haven't run into those idiots yet…"

"Yeah, but our luck won't last forever, Blaine!" Kurt interrupted sadly, but with an angry edge to his tone.

"I know. And we'll cross that bridge when we come to it, together. You never have to deal with them on your own again, I promise. Mercedes on the other hand," Blaine cocked his head to one side and made a rueful sort of gasping noise, "I am staying well away from… she will cut someone when she finds out you kept this a secret. And I'll just wear a bullet proof vest all the time, so your Dad won't be a problem either."

"He would find a way to seriously maim you," Kurt assured him, and Blaine tried very hard to keep his fear off his face.

"Well, if he hurts my performing skills, Wes will seriously maim him, so it'll balance out," Blaine responded coolly in his best attempt at non-chalance. "Finally, Facebook status will always be significant. And you're significant. So…" He took a deep breath, and actually found his palms to be sweating a little bit, "Kurt Hummel – will you please be my Facebook official, tell your father and your friends, screw what anyone else says because we're awesome , you can put your hands on me in my skin tight jeans any time you like boyfriend? Please?"

Kurt was grinning so wide that Blaine feared his face might split in half.

"Seeing as you put it so nicely… I suppose so," he sighed, completely unconvincing in his apathy.

Blaine gave up on holding back his Cheshire cat impression, and instead joined his boyfriend _(God it felt good to say that)_ in beaming like a lunatic.

"Now, more importantly, please say you were kidding about that pimple?"

* * *

><p>Kurt was stalling. He'd said he would tell him as soon as he got home. But when he'd walked into the living room, his father had been absorbed in some game on the plasma, and Kurt had decided that he would wait until half time. Then when it got to half time, he told himself that he should probably wait until it had completely finished, and then they could have an honest and open discussion about it. Well, the game had finished 40 minutes ago, and Kurt was now sitting cross legged on his bed, under the guise of doing some completely fabricated homework so that he wouldn't have to sit downstairs and attempt to interact with his family. His stomach was tying itself in knots at the very thought of even saying those words <em>– Dad, I have a boyfriend<em>. For some reason, he'd never pictured himself having to tell his father that. He'd always envisioned much more awkward scenarios, like Burt walking in on him and a guy making out, or something like that. Kurt cursed his inner drama queen – why had he not prepared himself for far less confrontational circumstances?

"Boys! Burt!" Carole's voice called, "Dinner time!"

Kurt sighed. It was time to face the music. With a quick text to Blaine, telling him not to worry if he didn't hear from him for the rest of the night, he was probably just a little bit dead, the young countertenor rolled gracefully off his bed, straightened his sweater and padded down to the kitchen.

"Hey kiddo," his dad greeted him as he walked in, making Kurt feel horrific with just those two words –he already felt guilty for hiding from his father ever since he'd arrived home, and now he was pretty certain that what he was going to announce over dinner would not be beneficial to Burt's blood pressure levels. To be perfectly honest, even with his low cholesterol diet, Kurt felt pretty close to cardiac arrest himself at that point. However, he managed to mumble a greeting in response, stumble to his seat and make the appropriate responses to all of the words that were flying around the dinner table as they began to eat.

"…and then right, the pigeon flew through window, stole her hairbrush, flew back out to its nest, and then when she went to find it, the baby birds had turned blonde because they'd been eating her hair! I didn't know that that could even happen!" Finn enthused, spraying casserole crumbs everywhere as he did so.

"Eww," Kurt muttered.

"I know right!"

"No, I was referring to your inability to swallow your food, Finn," he rolled his eyes at his stepbrother's stupidity, "And just for future reference, don't accept everything Britt says as truth."

Finn made a spectacle of chewing and finishing his next bite of food before opening his mouth to speak again, but Kurt had already tuned out again, desperately trying to remember where the key to the gun cabinet was kept now they had moved – he internally chastised himself for not thinking of that earlier.

"Kurt! Stop zoning out on me!" Finn whined, poking him in the ribs sharply. Kurt grimaced apologetically, and hoped that nothing more would be made of it – no such luck though.

"Yeah, what's with you tonight, son?" Burt asked in between mouthfuls of peas. "You're jumpier than a rattlesnake in a pickle barrel."

"Huh?"

"It's a metaphor, Finn," Kurt sighed, "We learnt about them in English last year."

"I thought metaphors were those shiny rocks that fell through the sky."

"No, Finn."

"Kurt, you answer me when I ask you something," Burt stated, not happy at being ignored, "What is with you?"

"It's really nothing," Kurt dismissed casually, however they did not have the desired effect. He could see the alarm bells ringing in his father's head – he's said that about Karofsky, of course Burt wouldn't believe him now.

"Is something wrong? Has something happened? Is school okay? I thought the kids there were nice? Has someone said something? Has…"

"Dad!" Kurt interrupted exasperatedly, "Everything's fine... in fact, everything's better than fine…"

"Well, how comes you're acting all strange then?" Burt jabbed his fork in his son's direction, but the accusing action was overridden by the concern in his tone.

Kurt took a deep breath to steady his pounding heart. It made no noticeable difference. "Because… well… the thing is… it's…" he stammered out.

"Spit it out, Kurt. Don't have a haemorrhage."

"Blaine…"

"Blaine what?"

"Blaine…"

"Do I need to punch his face in?" Finn offered.

"What did that kid do?"

"Seriously, bro, if you want me to, I will…"

"Finn! Violence is not the answer! Most of the time." Carole interjected, "And Burt! Let Kurt finish. What is it, honey?"

Kurt threw his stepmom a grateful look and hoped she would help him with the shit storm which was most likely about to go down. "Blaine and I," he started again slowly, "Blaine and I are going out."

"That's not news," Finn snorted, shovelling more food into his mouth, "You and Blaine go out all the time."

"Say it, don't spray it, Finn. And as in _going out_ going out. Dating. Boyfriends," Kurt stated, emphasising each different term for 'in a relationship'. It was sort of comforting to hear out loud, and Kurt felt himself relax slightly.

Burt however had frozen up completely. Finn had dropped his fork with a clatter. Carole was beaming at him so wide that he feared her face would split in half, and Kurt was struck by how absolutely insane they all looked. It would have been funny if it wasn't so damn scary, and all of Kurt's recently evaporated nerves rushed back as his gaze flickered between his for-once-silent family's faces.

"Dad…" he prompted, after a few minutes of awkward tension.

"Boyfriends…" Burt croaked, not lifting his gaze to meet Kurt's. "Boyfriends…"

"Dad, are you okay with this?" His voice was nearly as whisper, full of dread over the multitude of possible responses.

"… When?"

Kurt did not miss his father's failure to answer his question but chose to ignore it for now. "Only officially today… but we've been together for a few weeks," he admitted.

"Together…" Burt echoed hoarsely. Kurt didn't elaborate, instead allowing him time to process the new information. Finn had slowly resumed eating mechanically, but his gaze was glassy and he almost missed his mouth a couple of times.

"Well, I think it's great!" Carole announced after neither her son nor her husband passed further judgement, "You happy, hon?"

Kurt nodded, a slight pink tinge to his cheeks.

"Well of course you are, that boy is damn cute. If I was twenty years younger…"

"Mom!" Finn groaned, his disgust snapping him out his daze.

"What? It's true!"

"You're the wrong gender too, Carole," Kurt giggled, smiling again now that it was only one member of his family who appeared to be catatonic.

"Fine, if I was twenty years younger and male, I would so scoop that boy up," Carole amended with a wink.

"Eww, Mom! Seriously, I'm being mentally scarred here!"

"You jealous of your brother's luck too, eh, Finn?"

"Mom! Stop!"

"Aww, Finny," Carole consoled her son with a pat on the arm, "I'm sorry. But this is really great news for Kurt and I think we should _all_," she shot her husband a pointed look, "be happy for them."

"I am happy for them…" Finn grumbled.

"Try saying that with a smile, honey."

"I've got to work on my threatening face for when I next see Blaine! I can't smile! Otherwise he won't take me seriously!"

Kurt restrained from pointing out that very few people took Finn seriously on a regular basis anyway, and instead turned back to face his father, who had now refocused in on what was actually happening. Kurt knew his father, and he could see the emotions flickering over his face. Happiness, anger, but mainly concern.

"Kurt, invite Blaine over for dinner this Saturday," he instructed after another moment's contemplation on what Finn had said.

"Dad…" he implored, not liking where this was headed.

"I'm happy for you," Burt nodded and gave a small smile before resuming eating, "Promise. Just invite the kid over."

With a sigh, Kurt nodded. He would definitely have to find that key before Saturday.

* * *

><p>Blaine had tried to do his History essay. He really had. But it had proved to be nigh on impossible, what with checking his phone every 30 seconds, keeping the 'edit information' Facebook tab open, scrolling through various possibilities and generally panicking.<p>

He almost leapt out of his skin when his phone vibrated and he scrambled about, all fingers and thumbs in his desperation.

1 new message.

His heart race quickened considerably… and then plummeted again.

_From David: Warblers rehearsal tomorrow has been shifted back by half an hour – hope that doesn't cause any problems y'all._

Of course it would be about bloody Warblers. The one time in his life when he genuinely didn't care about Glee club, and that's what he was getting texts about.

He dropped his phone back onto his bed carelessly and plodded over to his bathroom. After he'd answered nature's call, he stood and stared at himself in the mirror for a while, killing time by picking out flaws in his features and just thinking about everything and nothing in particular. And then when he got bored of that, he allowed himself to check his phone again.

2 new messages and 3 missed calls from Kurt.

Dammit.

_From Kurt: Keep Saturday evening free._

_From Kurt: And check your facebook._

Blaine smiled.

His history essay could wait a few more minutes.

* * *

><p><strong>Kurt Hummel<strong> is in a relationship with **Blaine Anderson**

**Mercedes Jones, Jeff Barker **and **26 others** like this.

**Tina Cohen-Chang: **Happy happy happy dance.

**Mercedes Jones: **Finally! You better take care of my boy Anderson, else I'm gonna cut you.

**Wesley Hughes: **Wait, why is this on my news feed? This isn't news!

**Mercedes Jones:** What you chatting about, Warbler?

**Wesley Hughes:** They've had their tongues down each other's throats for weeks now.

**Mercedes Jones:** WHITE BOY! WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME!

**Quinn Fabray: **Well that explains Candles.

(**Lauren Zizes** likes this)

**Burt Hummel: **Wait, what?

**Kurt Hummel: **He's kidding Dad. And sorry 'Cedes, only became official today.

**Noah 'Puck' Puckerman: **Shut up Fabray. And gutted for you Hummel – this is why you don't have the parents on Facebook.

**Wesley Hughes: **I was most definitely joking Mr Hummel.

**Brittany Pierce**: O yay! He's a really good kisser Blaine!

**Trent D'Arcy: **Okay, Kurt, you're going to have to explain this tomorrow.

(**David Grant**, **Jeff Barker** and **Nick Lynch **like this)

**Blaine Anderson: **Regretting making it Facebook official now, Kurt? And Mercedes, of course I will. I do not want to get cut.

**Noah 'Puck' Puckerman**: I will also introduce you to a world of pain, Warbler, if you hurt by boy Hummel.

(**Sam Evans, Finn Hudson, Michael Chang** and **4 others** like this)

**Lauren Zizes**: Will you drown him in your tears, crybaby?

(**Quinn Fabray, Michael Chang, Finn Hudson **and **8 others** like this

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Up next, Blaine joins the Hudmel's for dinner. Reviews = love.**


	2. Carole Hummel Is Awesome

**A/N: Wow, I was completely blown away by the response to the first chapter! Thank you all so much for your kind words! I tried to be as quick as possible with this chapter, but I didn't want to put something up I wasn't proud of, plus I was really busy! Anyway, hope you like.**

**Disclaimer: Do I look like Ryan Murphy?**

* * *

><p>Blaine fidgeted nervously against the leather of his car seat, trying to get the best view of his entire head in the rear view mirror. Following their coffee shop conversation where Kurt had revealed his fondness for Blaine's curls, he had consciously reduced the amount of hair gel he used in the past few days, and was now having serious qualms about this decision. He could deal with the gentle teasing at school and the slightly stunned look on his teacher's faces, as Kurt's reaction has most definitely been worth it, but sitting in the Hummel-Hudson driveway, he missed the comfort of the stiff, helmet of hair. He was certain that if he'd been more familiar with his do, he would have actually gone to knock on the door when he'd actually pulled in to their home, rather than faffing about in the car, wasting time, as he'd been doing for the past five minutes. He gave one last fruitless tug at a stray curl, sighed resignedly and slid out of the car. As he walked up to the front door, he adjusted and smoothed down his shirt and questioned his choice of outfit for about the fiftieth time in the past two hours. It normally took him all of ten minutes to get ready, but as the current state of his bedroom floor would attest, today was an entirely different story. After casting out the entire contents of his wardrobe, Blaine had finally settled on a pair of slim fit grey jeans and a simple black button up shirt. He knew that it was stupid to be this nervous – he'd met Kurt's family before – but that didn't stop his palms from sweating furiously as he rang the doorbell. This was the first time he'd met them as Kurt's boyfriend (<em>damn, still felt good saying that<em>) and considering the last conversation he'd had with Burt Hummel had been about encouraging his son to be sexually aware, he felt that at least part of his fear (namely the bit about Burt castrating him) was justified.

"Blaine, honey," Carole greeted him with a warm smile as she opened the door, "Come on in."

"Thanks Mrs Hummel," he responded weakly, stepping into the entrance hall, which was filled with family shots. His eyes briefly fell on upon a picture of a six year old Kurt with his mother, and he found himself wondering how this woman with the same beautiful glasz eyes he loved so much would have reacted to him.

"Please, call me Carole dear," she laughed, ushering him through into the living room, "Kurt's still getting ready, but he'll be down soon."

"I wouldn't count on that," Finn snorted from his spot on the couch, "He spends more time getting ready than most of the girls I know."

"At least he doesn't look like he's just rolled out of a haystack half the time," Carole defended her stepson. With a pointed look at Burt, which did not escape Blaine's notice, and assurances that it would shortly be time for dinner, she excused herself, leaving the room to settle into an awkward hush.

"So…" Burt starts slowly, almost drawling, "You doing okay, Blaine"

"Yes sir, very well. And yourself?"

"I'm good."

"Glad to hear it," Blaine smiled automatically, the epitome of good manners. His grandmother would be proud of him.

Burt made an indistinguishable noise – either a grunt or a chuckle or a mixture of the two, Blaine wasn't entirely sure. "Shove over Finn," he commanded, gesturing for Blaine to sit down. He did so gratefully, as he felt as if his legs would give out from nerves pretty soon, but leapt up again almost immediately as Kurt swanned in to the room.

Blaine gulped loudly as he took in his boyfriend's appearance – hardly an appropriate reaction considering their current company but, damn, that outfit…

He was wearing a simple, if rather tight, white V-neck tee with a silver waistcoat over the top, which emphasised the grey in his huge shining eyes. It was his electric blue trousers, however, that had rendered Blaine speechless – how had he even managed to get into those, let alone walk down the stairs? They looked practically sprayed on.

"Hey you," Kurt smirked flirtatiously, clearly aware of the effect he was having.

"Hey," Blaine managed to croak, the melted puddle of goo that had been his brain not really capable of forming sentences yet.

With a couple of quick, long strides (again, Blaine questioned Kurt's ability to move in those pants), the distance between them was closed, and Blaine found himself wrapped in his boyfriend's arms and a chaste kiss being pressed to his ear. "I thoroughly approve of your jeans, by the way," Kurt nodded as they broke apart far too soon for Blaine's liking, "Very flattering."

"Yeah, you too," Blaine forced out, "You look… just … wow." He shook his head in disbelief.

Finn coughed loudly from behind them, breaking Blaine out of his admiring reverie.

"C'mon," Kurt took Blaine's hand casually with an eye-roll in his step brother's direction. "Let's go upstairs."

"Actually, boys, would you mind setting the table?" Burt interjected hurriedly, the question sounding more like a demand.

"Daaaaad…."

"Kurt. Go and set the table."

"Yeah, Kurt, go and set the table," Finn chimed in teasingly.

Kurt looked about ready to take a chunk out of both of them, but Blaine stepped in quickly – bloodshed within the first few minutes was definitely not what his idea of a good impression – and gave Kurt's hand a subtle, comforting squeeze. "Sure thing, Mr Hummel."

Ignoring his son's sigh, Burt nodded, a slight smile playing around his lips, and settled back into his seat.

"Fine then," Kurt stomped out of the lounge, practically dragging Blaine behind him, through to the dining room, where he unceremoniously flung open the cutlery draw and began to thrust various crockery into Blaine's hands. "Urgh," he exclaimed angrily as he nearly impaled his boyfriend on a fork, "It's not even my turn to set the table!"

"You sound like a toddler, babe," Blaine laughed, possibly rather unwisely considering the knife Kurt was currently brandishing.

"He only made us do this because he thought you were going to jump me."

"Well, you do look rather marvellous in those trousers," Blaine dropped his volume to ensure no one else (specifically any gun wielding fathers) would overhear his appreciation, and winked.

Kurt rolled his eyes again, chuckling. "Still… I wish he'd trust me."

"I think it's me he doesn't trust, not you," Blaine pointed out as he moved around the table, positioning the knives and forks.

"He barely knows you!" Kurt protested.

"Kurt, baby," Blaine laughed kindly, "That's exactly the point! He doesn't know me from Adam – he doesn't look at me and see Blaine Anderson, good at English, failing Physics, lead Warbler, Star Wars fan boy, Family Guy nut and scared of snakes. He sees Blaine Anderson, douchebag, who is going to hurt his son, try and drag him off into a world of hot, gay sex, demand all his time and put the final nail in the coffin of the cute baby boy who he once held. Of course he doesn't trust me."

"But that's not fair on you."

"It is all just a part of teenage relationships – stupid fights over really dumb things, doodling each other's names on our notebooks, saying we're going to study and ending up making out and being terrified out of my wits by your parents."

"You don't know my Dad. He'll end up taking it to extremes."

"So what! If falling in love with you means having to act like I don't have hormones in front of your father, and running away from your giant of a step brother then so what! Bring it on – it's worth it! You are so worth it! There isn't a psycho family in the world that could keep me away from you… Not that I'm calling your family psycho." He added hastily.

"Glad to hear that," Carole said, appearing behind them, and scaring Blaine out of his wits, "Don't worry, it's only me. Thanks for doing the table boys, you finish up and I'll go grab the others."

Blaine's heart had not yet returned to its normal pace when Kurt reached across the table and lightly clasped his hand without a word.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a T-rex!" Finn exclaimed, striding into the room.

"It would probably eat you first, honey."

Kurt gave Blaine's hand a reassuring squeeze. It could only go downhill from here.

* * *

><p>Blaine couldn't believe he had made it halfway through the meal without having a heart attack yet. Conversation had been minimal as they were all too busy appreciating their food to talk, but it was the little things which had given him palpitations. For example, he knew Kurt was not religious – but why had he not thought to ask about the rest of the family before coming over? What if they had gone to say grace and he'd been left there looking like an ungrateful, pagan idiot of some form? Luckily, they hadn't, but even asking Burt to pass the salt had been a stressful enough experience – he didn't want to be insensitive as he knew that Burt had to monitor his blood pressure carefully, but on the other hand, he really did love salt. Little dilemmas as these had kept him on edge all night, until he actually found himself grateful when the topic of conversation moved around to him. At least he would actually know the answers to all of these<p>

"So, Kurt tells us that you're a Buckeyes fan," Burt questioned in between mouthfuls.

"Yes sir. Big, big fan," Blaine smiled, relieved that he knew that they had this is common.

"You ever play?"

"No sir. Too small, I was told."

"Didn't stop, Kurt," Finn pointed out, yet again speaking with his mouthful.

Blaine turned to his boyfriend with wide eyes. "You played football? Why didn't I know this?"

"Barely," Kurt gulped, "It was one game as the kicker. Not exactly significant."

"Not exactly significant?" Burt laughed disbelievingly, "That was the only game the Titans won that season! Because of your goal, son!"

"You won them the match?"

"And he taught the entire team the Single Ladies dance!"

"Finn, you can shut up now."

"Oh please say there are videos!"

"I think so…"

"Well I definitely got a picture of him in his uniform," Burt beamed proudly; "He did so good."

"He was awesome."

"Guys, you can shut up embarrassing me now."

"Kurt, are you blushing?" Blaine teased.

"Aww, he is!"

"I hate you all," Kurt muttered under his breath, but he was smiling too. Blaine grinned – perhaps this meal wasn't going to be the death of him after all.

"So Blaine," Burt resumed after they had all stopped cracking jokes at the football teams expense, "When did you come out?"

Kurt dropped his fork with a clatter, "Dad!" He hissed, "You can't just ask that!"

"Why?" Burt responded as he reached over to thud Finn (who had begun to choke and splutter wildly) on the back, "I'm curious."

"Still!" Kurt exclaimed angrily, "It's personal!"

"So I'm not allowed to talk about personal things with your… friends?" Blaine's cheeks turned slightly pink at the memory of their conversation in the garage a few weeks earlier.

"Not like that!"

Burt looked to Carole for some back up, but she merely threw her hands in the air and went to get Finn a glass of water.

"I'm just taking an interest, son."

"Well…"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted before his boyfriend could start ranting at his father, "I don't mind."

"But…."

"Seriously, it's fine." Burt short Kurt a satisfied sort of told-you-so look, before settling back into his seat to listen to Blaine. "I was thirteen when I came out," he started, "I'd always known I liked guys, but I didn't realise that it was an issue until around then, when everyone started pairing up for the first time. So I asked the boy I liked out on a date…"

"And…"

Carole, who had re-joined them by this point, sighed at her husband's insensitivity but did not interrupt – they were all curious as to where this story would go.

"And he very politely declined. We were still friends, he didn't treat me any differently and everything was fine for the next few months, until I made some passing reference to it and a lot of our other friends kind of freaked. I went home and told my mom that some kids had been calling me names all day because I'd asked him out, and that's when I formally came out – I hadn't even realised it was a necessary to clarify until then. Homosexuality wasn't really a topic in our house," he explained.

The Hummel-Hudsons reflected on this for a few moments – even though most people had already assumed that he was gay, when Kurt came out, everyone had at least grasped the importance of the situation. Now Kurt wasn't sure who had had it easier – him or Blaine. Did it even matter?

"So, you must have had a fair few boyfriends then?" Burt asked bluntly, earning him warning glances from Carole and Kurt and causing Finn to nearly choke again. "Being out for so long."

Blaine gave a little laugh, "Uh, no… Kurt is my first real relationship."

"Ah…" Burt looked slightly stunned as he processed this.

"Yup," he nudged Kurt's foot under the table and smiled.

"Wait, what do you mean _real_ relationship?"

Kurt groaned. It was going to be an interesting night.

* * *

><p>Well, one thing that Blaine could happily take from what had otherwise been a terrifying dining experience was that at least Carole liked him. Once they had finished dessert (Kurt had made the most magnificent low-calorie chocolate mousse) she had insisted that Burt and Finn cleared up, and then proceeded to pretty much shove him and Kurt upstairs. This was where Blaine now found himself, being dragged along hurriedly, towards Kurt's bedroom.<p>

Kurt threw open the door and tugged his boyfriend in after him like the hounds of Hades were at their heels. Blaine hadn't quite understood the need for the urgency – he highly doubted Burt would be able to beat them up here and drag them back down, particularly as Carole had had a rather wicked glint in her eyes – and was about to question it when he found himself pinned up against the wall with his arms above his head, and Kurt's lips very firmly on his own.

Even though he'd been taken by surprise, Blaine was nothing if not appreciative of the situation he now found himself in and reciprocated happily, his mouth opening eagerly at the swipe of Kurt's tongue along his lower lip. He shivered as their mouths melded – Kurt tasted like cherry chapstick (something his inner Katy Perry fanboy noted with glee) as per usual but with the rich taste of the dark chocolate too, his taste buds were in ecstasy.

"Not that I'm complaining," Blaine murmured into his boyfriends mouth as they slowed pace slightly in order to breathe, "But was there a reason for that?"

Kurt smiled, and pulled away, garnering an unashamed whimper from Blaine. "Yes there was."

"Are you going to tell me what it is?" he prompted further as Kurt took another step away from him and toward the bed.

"You did really well tonight – Dad likes you, I can tell."

Blaine raised his triangular eyebrows in disbelief . "Really?"

"Really," Kurt grinned at him coyly, "Plus, what you said before dinner…" he gave a little nibble of his now slightly swollen lips, "Well it really meant a lot to me."

"Oh yeah?" Blaine smirked back, closing the distance between them with a stride, "Well, I meant it. Every word."

"Good," Kurt threaded his fingers through Blaine's curls, "Because I'd do anything for you – you know that right?"

Blaine nodded slowly but surely. "Will you kiss me again?" he breathed, closing his broad hands around Kurt's slender waist.

"Anything." Kurt responded simply, pulling him closer and brushing his lips delicately. "Anything. Anything. Anything," he repeated again and again as he planted feather-light kisses on Blaine's mouth.

Blaine sighed happily. He could quite literally stand here and be showered in these kisses for days and not care. Well, metaphorically, he corrected himself; he would need to eat and drink and sleep and urinate after all. But for now, he was perfectly content. However, he was also more than happy when Kurt tenderly deepened the kiss, sucking on his lips for a moment before releasing them with a pop and sliding his slightly pointed tongue into Blaine's mouth. He was exploring – there was no other word for it. Running his tongue over the back of his teeth, gently feeling out every inch of his palate, taking long swipes at his lips – Kurt was certainly full of surprises. How had he learned to kiss like that? Blaine let out a groan when Kurt nipped playfully at his lip.

"Again," he muttered. Kurt obliged, causing Blaine to make another guttural sound of appreciation. Kurt couldn't help but giggle at the effect he was having. "It's not funny," Blaine protested in a whisper, his lips vibrating against Kurt's.

"Sorry." Kurt replied with renewed vigour, kissing deeper, sliding his hands down Blaine's spine until he was confident of his grip. Without breaking any body or lip contact he tugged at Blaine's hips so that they both tumbled backwards onto his bed.

"Wait, wait, wait, Kurt," Blaine reluctantly dragged himself upwards as realisation as to their change in position sank in, "What are we doing?"

"Well, we were kissing," Kurt huffed, propping himself up on his elbows, "Now we appear to be talking."

"I know that. I meant what are we doing on your bed?" Blaine detangled himself fully from his pouting boyfriend and sat back slightly, in an attempt to prevent himself from acting on temptation.

"I repeat: we were kissing and now we're talking. On my bed."

"Kurt…"

"I don't see what the big deal is!"

"We're on your bed."

"We've been on my bed before."

"Not kissing on your bed," Blaine attempted to explain his hesitance, "It takes on a slightly different meaning then."

"Well we're not kissing anymore!"

"Kurt!"

Kurt exhaled loudly. "I'm not asking you to ravish me Blaine. Just carry on kissing me. On my bed."

"But why?"

"Don't you like kissing me?"

"Of course I do!"

"Then I don't see what the problem is!"

"Why are we on your bed?"

"Because it's comfortable and because we always are standing up when we kiss and I wanted to try it lying down because then I won't have to worry about my legs giving out! Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay!"

"Kurt?" Blaine ventured softly.

"Yes, Blaine?"

"Kiss me? On your bed."

Kurt threw his head back and laughed. "You are such a dork," he teased as he crawled back over to where Blaine was resting, "But, yes. Anything."

Blaine met Kurt halfway between this time, their lips crashing together, clumsy with passion. There was no exploration or tenderness this time - just heat and left over frustration from their misunderstanding. Kurt's heart was pounding as he was pushed backwards so that Blaine was nearly straddling him, body hanging low over Kurt's chest. Even though he'd been annoyed only 30 seconds prior, the slender countertenor was now grateful for Blaine's pause earlier – now they'd clarified their situation, he really wasn't holding back.

Kurt whined a little when Blaine's mouth suddenly moved away from his, but his protests didn't last long as Blaine's lips were soon reoccupied nipping, kissing and sucking a line down from his earlobe to his collar bone. "Blaine…" he breathed.

"Yes babe?" Blaine murmured into Kurt's neck before biting down gently at his pulse point.

"Ahhhh…"

"What was that?" Kurt could feel Blaine grinning against his skin as he continued to massages at the tender spot with his teeth and his tongue,

"That feels… so good," he emphasised hoarsely as Blaine bit down harder this time.

"Glad you approve."

Boy, did Kurt approve. Resisting the urge to melt completely, Kurt instead stroked his fingers lightly around Blaine's body so that they were now resting on his stomach. Slowly, he slid his hands downwards, looping two of his fingers through the waistband of Blaine's jeans and pulling their bodies closer together. Now it was Blaine's turn to moan at the increased friction and their mouths quickly found each other again, tongues warring for dominance. Kurt allowed Blaine to push him further down into the mattress and began to grind their hips together slightly. In between gasps, he freed his hand from in-between their hip bones, sliding his finger's up the inside of Blaine's shirt instead, tracing the defined stomach muscles, appreciating the warmth of his smooth skin and the contrast with the rough feeling of the hair that covered it.

Blaine shivered at Kurt's cool touch as he sucked gently at his tongue. Thank God for Carole Hummel and her control over her husband and son.

* * *

><p><strong>Finn Hudson<strong>: Oh my God! My eyes! They're burning! I can't unsee that!

(**Noah 'Puck' Puckerman** likes this)

**Noah 'Puck' Puckerman**: What was it, dude? Was it that awesome squirrel thing I linked you to?

**Finn Hudson**: Worse.

**Noah 'Puck' Puckerman**: Worse than the squirrel thing? Nothing's worse than the squirrel thing!

**Artie Abrams**: Preach.

**Finn Hudson**: Kurt and Blaine. Making out. On his bed. Someone get me some bleach or something!

**Noah 'Puck' Puckerman**: Well shit.

**Santana Lopez**: Get some Hummel.

**Finn Hudson**: No, no, no, no, no, no! Don't encourage it Santana!

**Nick Lynch**: I feel your pain, Finn. It made me want to gouge my own eyes out when I first saw it full on.

**Kurt Hummel**: It's called knocking Finn. And Nick for that matter – you both bought it on yourself.

(**Blaine Anderson **likes this)

**Kurt Hummel**: And since when are you two Facebook friends?

**Nick Lynch**: We spoke in the line for the men's room at Regionals for like 2 minutes. That constitutes a Facebook friendship.

**Artie Abrams**: Preach.

**Nick Lynch** is now friends with **Artie Abrams, Noah 'Puck' Puckerman** and **Santana Lopez**

(**Finn Hudson** likes this)

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I actually wrote the dinner section whilst slightly tipsy, so that required a bit of editing! Anyway, um, hope you liked? Please review or talk to me on tumblr if you have any questions (I will be posting a few sneak previews) .com/. Next chapter will be a bit of Warbler action. **


	3. Sarah Gilligan Regrets Rules

**Disclaimer: I own nothing even vaguely resembling Glee.**

* * *

><p>There were many things in this world that Kurt Hummel was grateful for; his naturally oil-free complexion, the colour grey (it went with pretty much everything) and the year's subscription to Vogue his father had bought him for Christmas immediately leapt to mind. On the Sunday morning after Blaine's official introduction to the Hummel-Hudson family as his boyfriend however, Kurt found himself thanking all that was holy (and for him, that translated to designer) for his extensive collection of turtleneck sweaters.<p>

Because really, he didn't want to give Burt another heart attack.

* * *

><p>Come Monday, he was not feeling so thankful.<p>

Because Monday meant school, and school meant uniform, and uniform meant oxford shirt and blazer, and acceptable dress code, and acceptable dress code meant no scarves in school buildings.

Kurt was hardly the Dalton uniform's biggest fan at the best of times (except of course when Blaine was wearing it – damn those slacks fit him nicely) but right now, he felt like burning it and then running around the grounds carrying it's charred remains as a victory flag in a defiant stand against the 'acceptable dress code'.

Truthfully, in the wintertime, most of the teachers would let them get away with flouting that one particular rule, but today was possibly as un-winterish as could be. In fact, the weather forecaster had cheerfully announced that it was predicted to be the warmest day of the year so far. Kurt had wanted to punch him in his overly smiley face.

Instead he resorted to layering on the concealer. It didn't do its job – if anything it just drew more attention to the large bruise which still covered a significant portion of his neck (despite his heartfelt prayers to the latest Prada collection, it had not magically disappeared – or even faded slightly for that matter – overnight). So he removed the mound of make-up which was clogging his pores and fell back on his bed with a groan. It still smelt of Blaine's aftershave; at least he could take comfort in the scent of his boyfriend temporarily before resuming his battle against his skin. Even if said boyfriend was the source of his current problem.

"Kurt!" his father's voice carried clearly up the stairs, "Get a move on buddy, you're going to be late!"

Looked like he was going to have to find something bigger than various Spring-Summer 2011 collections to pray to/wish on/swear by. Because Kurt Hummel was going to break the rules. Kurt Hummel was going to wear a scarf indoors at Dalton Academy for Boys.

Honestly, what other choice did he have?

* * *

><p>Kurt felt like he'd aged by about 10 years in the space of two classes. He had barely managed to take any notes, but they could be copied up later – all that mattered for now was that his navy pashmina was still wrapped firmly in place.<p>

Then he arrived in third period history.

Sarah Gilligan was not a bad teacher nor was she a mean woman – she was merely young and inexperienced. She knew how lucky she was to have gotten a job teaching at a private school fresh out of training and didn't particularly want to take any gambles. Kurt couldn't blame her for enforcing the rules. It was her job after all. However, that didn't mean he had to like her for it.

"Kurt," she called out as the class unpacked their textbooks and folders, "Can you please lose the scarf?"

"It's actually a pashmina, Miss," he rebutted.

"Either way," she sighed, not in the mood for a full blown confrontation just before lunchtime on a Monday, "It's against school rules."

"Actually, there's nothing in the behaviour guide about pashminas specifically." Let it never be said that Kurt Hummel didn't do his reading.

"There's also nothing about turning up to class naked and riding a lawnmower, doesn't mean that you won't get in trouble for it," Miss Gilligan responded calmly, well aware of the fact that they now held the attention of every boy in the class (a bit of a first for her lessons). "This is a classroom, not a catwalk. Hardly the appropriate time for a fashion statement." Kurt muttered something which sounded suspiciously like 'clearly' under his breath but she chose that. "Come on Kurt. Remove the neckwear."

"But it's cold, Miss!" he lied, shivering slightly for extra effect.

With a disbelieving look and a sigh, she began to navigate her way to Kurt's desk. "You can come and collect it at the end of the day," she instructed firmly, extending a manicured hand.

"Please, Miss Gilligan," he implored with wide eyes, shaking his head a little. His attitude had suddenly switched from that of a petulant teenager to a desperate, pleading child.

"Give me the scarf, Kurt," she commanded, not unkindly.

"Actually, Miss, it's a pashmina."

"Thank you for that contribution, Jeff. Kurt…"

Reluctantly, Kurt obeyed, uncomfortably conscious of the stunned stares of his classmates as he folded the offending item and placed it carefully into his teacher's outstretched hands. Even her mouth had fallen open in surprise at what she had unwittingly made him reveal.

"Thank you, Kurt," she stammered quietly before hurriedly striding back to her desk, almost tripping over her own feet as her guilt at Kurt's mortification set in.

That was the rest of the classes cue to explode.

"Bloody hell Kurt, that is one hell of a hickey!"

"It sort of looks like you got hit with a mallet…"

"Or a sledgehammer."

"Oh my God, you didn't, did you?"

"Does it hurt if you poke it?"

"I didn't know Blaine had it in him."

"I don't want to think about what Blaine's had in him…"

"Boys!" Miss Gilligan cried fruitlessly from the front of the room, any premise of control completely evaporated.

"Exactly Miss."

"You need help, Jeff. Seriously."

Kurt sank lower in his seat, willing the floor to open up and swallow him.

Miss Gilligan deeply regretted her choice to enforce that particular part of Dalton Academy's extensive list of rules.

* * *

><p>Blaine dashed to Kurt's locker as soon as the bell rang for lunch – he'd barely heard from him on Sunday, and excluding a brief message saying he was running late that morning, they hadn't talked at all yet today, which was quite a rare occurrence. Besides he'd just received a rather obscure text from Jeff about Kurt and sledgehammers, and was rather curious as to what that meant.<p>

"Whayo, Blaine!" he span around to see Nick calling to him, "You ole devil!"

"What?" he laughed back slightly bemused. Nick wasn't the first to say something similar to him today – a random sophomore had called him a player only a few minutes ago.

"Heard about your weekend exploits," Nick waggled his eyebrows suggestively, "It's all over the school."

Blaine cocked his head to one side, perplexed. "I have no idea what you're on about, Nick."

Nick only laughed harder at this. "Seen Kurt yet?"

"No… should I have? What's going on?"

"You'll find out soon enough…" he winked mysteriously, before being swallowed into the crowd of boys in the hall.

Blaine shook his head, more confused than ever.

He soon pushed all thoughts of Nick and Jeff and other random catcallers to the back of his mind as he spotted Kurt standing at his open locker, fixing his hair in the mirror which hung inside of the door. Blaine's smile grew to rather idiotic proportions and his pace quickened without him even thinking about it. However, his grin depreciated slightly as he drew close enough see Kurt's reflection in the mirror. Ah. Now he understood.

"Holy hell…."

"Oh my GaGa!" Kurt spun around clutching at his chest, "Don't sneak up on me like that Blaine!"

He mumbled an incoherent apology before resuming his gaping at the large purple-reddish bruise which had spread across the left side of his boyfriends previously porcelain neck. Were those… yep – those were definitely teeth marks. "Is that… was that…. I'm… Oh my God…."

Kurt flushed a rather bright shade of crimson and gave a little nod. He gnawed at his lip anxiously, waiting for Blaine's reaction.

"I am so, so, _so_ sorry, babe…. I didn't realise…."

"It's okay," Kurt dismissed quietly, "My Dad hasn't seen yet – we're safe," he attempted to joke lamely – Blaine couldn't help but wince at the thought of Burt Hummel's reaction.

"Does it hurt?" Kurt shrugged. "May I?" Blaine extended his hand slowly. With a breathless nod from Kurt, he lightly grazed the blemish with his cool fingertips. Kurt shivered slightly at the sensation. "I am so sorry," he repeated. "So, so sorry."

"I kinda like it," Kurt admitted shyly, "In a totally non-sadistic way… It shows everyone that I'm yours."

Blaine smiled, his fingers still tracing the contours of Kurt's neck, "Well in that case, I kinda like it too. In a totally non-possessive way."

Kurt chuckled. "Just maybe not somewhere quite so obvious next time, yeah?"

"Next time, eh?"

"If you play your cards right…" Kurt smirked flirtatiously, exposing the tip of his tongue slightly.

Then, not caring that they were in a crowded school corridor, Blaine closed the now miniscule between them, running a thumb over the lovebite as his hand cupped Kurt's neck, holding their lips together in a brief, tender kiss. After a moment, they broke apart although neither of them moved that far.

"C'mon," Blaine breather, "Wes ordered pizzas – we're going to eat outside on the quad."

"If you think I am sitting on the grass, Mr Anderson," Kurt pulled away to close his locker, "You have got another thing coming."

"Aw, don't be a spoil sport," he pouted, "Why not? It's like a picnic!"

"Picnics usually include a blanket. And I do not want to get all dirty."

"Nothing wrong with getting a little dirty…."

Kurt rolled his eyes and threaded their fingers together. He wasn't even going to dignify that blatant innuendo with a reply. It would only encourage him.

* * *

><p>In the end, Kurt had been persuaded to join their 'picnic', although he only nibbled at the edge of one slice of pizza before passing it off to Blaine and instead ate an apple. His 'blanket' was actually Blaine's school blazer, and while he would normally object to sullying any clothes (except anything polyester, or worn by one Miss Rachel Berry), his boyfriend had pushed back the sleeves of his shirt to his elbows, revealing muscular, tanned forearms, one of which was currently wrapped around Kurt's waist, playing with his waistband, so truthfully, Kurt didn't mind at all.<p>

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, back up there David," Wes exclaimed, leaning forward across the circle with his 'don't make me use my gavel' face on. "You genuinely prefer the Goblet of Fire to the Prisoner of Azkaban?"

"It's not that Azkaban's bad…"

"Well being with all those Death eater's and Dementors must suck."

"Shut up Jeff."

"Wait, are we talking about the books or the films here?" Thad interjected.

"Films – when talking about books, you have to totally separate the first three and the last four."

"Not necessarily…"

"Yes, necessarily. They're like twice as long."

"To be honest…"

"David, no one respects your opinion any more – you think the fourth Harry Potter film is better than the third."

"Guys, guys, guys," Blaine quieted them down, ever the peacemaker, "Let's hear why he thinks that before we completely ridicule him for it."

"Thank you Blaine… I think…"

"The floor is yours."

"Two words: Emma Watson," David threw his arms up explanatorily. The rest of the Warblers (excluding Kurt and Blaine) murmured their agreement.

"Wait, I'm confused," Kurt broke into their appreciative haze, "What's so special about Hermione in the fourth film?"

None of them answered; a couple shook their heads in disbelief at his question and others shot him disparaging looks, although that wasn't really helpful for Kurt. Blaine, who had sat through a HP movie marathon with these guys analysing Emma, sighed and stepped up to the plate.

"The fourth film is the one where she gets really hot and she's old enough to not feel like a paedophile for fancying her," he explained.

"Exactly," David nodded rigorously.

Kurt let out a little snort. "Are you guys for real?"

"Are you two honestly trying to tell us that there is no man candy in Harry Potter that makes it slightly better worth watching?" Wes scoffed.

"Really, Wes? Man candy?"

"You know what I meant. No dashing warlocks who ignite your wand?"

"No."

"Yes."

"Wait, what?" Kurt turned to Blaine, a slightly stunned expression on his face, "Who?"

Blaine's cheeks tinged pink as he muttered "Ron" quietly.

"Ron?" His boyfriend repeated much louder, practically screeching the word as if it was an expletive.

"Really, Blaine?" Jeff scrunched up his nose in distaste, "Have you not seen Tom Felton?"

"Jeff, sometimes when you open your mouth, my gaydar goes slightly mental."

"Shut up, Blaine. At least I'm not in trouble with my boyfriend for fancying a ginger."

"I'm not in trouble… am I?" Blaine looked up at his boyfriend with large pleading eyes, twisting his body around slightly so that he was more curved around Kurt's legs.

"No. I just don't get it…" Kurt looked genuinely perplexed, furrowing his brow without a second thought for wrinkles.

"Did you not see him in that splinching scene? Very sexy…" Kurt did not look impressed at this, so Blaine quickly backtracked, "Have I told you today how pretty you are?" he said sweetly, sitting up and shuffling closer. "Because you are very, very pretty."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Anderson."

"But you're so pretty," Blaine began to press small kisses to Kurt's shoulder, and then worked his way up as he spoke, using his lips to punctuate, "So. So. Pretty."

Kurt tried (and failed miserably) to keep the smile off his face as he gestured for Blaine to continue.

"I think if you got much more pretty, I'd implode," his trail of kisses had reached Kurt's jaw line now, "And then die."

"That didn't really make much sense Blaineybear."

Blaine (very undapperly) flipped Jeff off as he continued. "You're beautiful, Kurt."

With that, Kurt grabbed his chin fiercely and planted a passionate kiss on Blaine's already slightly parted mouth.

"I think we're about to get a repeat showing of how Kurt got that hickey guys…"

Someone (Kurt suspected Jeff) pretended to gag.

"I swear if they got much sweeter, we'd all have cavities."

"If they're like this on Friday, then I may have to burn down my house just to rid the world of their gooeyness."

With that, Kurt pushed Blaine off him, and turned to face David, who was the last person to have spoken.

"What's happening on Friday?"

"My parents are out of town this weekend…" Kurt already had a bad feeling about where this was going, "…so we're having a Warbler party!"

Oh dear Gucci.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Not a massive fan of this chapter – I really struggled with it and rewrote it like twice – hence why it took me so long to put up. But I'd really love to hear what you think, as always, so please review**


	4. Effectively, Kurt Kissed Justin's Toes

**A/N: Okay, sorry about the wait! I ended up picking up a ton of extra shifts at work. Also smutty warning for the end. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee, there would be more singing, more snogging and a lot less random stuff.**

* * *

><p>Kurt didn't quite know what to expect as he pulled into the huge driveway of David's sprawling home. He'd witnessed Finn's last guy's night with the New Directions boys – it seemed to mainly consist of drinking cheap beer, playing violent video games and discussing porn. Not exactly Kurt's idea of fun.<p>

He guessed by the volume of cars that he walked past between where he'd parked and the front door (presuming that they didn't all belong to David's family, which right now didn't seem that farfetched) that he was one of the last to arrive. He'd had to drive farther than the rest of them, plus Friday family dinner hadn't finished until gone 8, which was when people had been told to arrive from, so he figured he had an excuse for breaking his record of impeccable time keeping. He knew that Blaine was here for sure – his silver Mercedes had been the first thing Kurt had noticed (after the colossal house, obviously) upon arriving. Kurt rang the doorbell, suppressing the slight anxiety that was coursing through him about what he might have just let himself in for.

"Kurt!" David flung open the door, beaming, "Welcome to Warblerland!"

Kurt stepped in and peered around at the expansive entrance hall as he unlaced his boots and carefully added them to the mountain of discarded shoes. It was fairly neutral in colour and content, but the whole place, down to the light switch, just screamed 'rich'. However, there was yet to be any discussion of breasts, so he was still determined to be positive.

"Thank God!" Jeff suddenly appeared next to David, "Kurt! Blaine's been driving us all insane…" he reached out and grabbed Kurt's wrist before he had a chance to respond, promptly dragging him through a large archway into the next room.

Whatever Kurt had been expecting for Warbler night, this was certainly not it. Katy Perry's latest single was blasting out of numerous speakers, with Wes, Nick, Ezra and James all piled onto a long black leather sofa in front of a 62 inch plasma. Surprisingly though, rather than Call of Duty or Gears of War or anything like that, they were playing Mario Kart Wii – Wes appeared to be losing badly, judging by the torrent of profanities tumbling out of his mouth and the laughter of the others. And was that a giant Jenga set in the corner? And still no naked women or alcohol to be found.

"C'mon," Jeff tugged impatiently, "I think he's in the kitchen."

Kurt could only gape as he was pulled through into an open plan kitchen, which was of course fitted with every luxury appliance imaginable – who honestly needed 4 ovens? He was only shaken out his extreme case of kitchen envy when his gaze landed on Blaine, sitting cross-legged on the central island next to the espresso maker (he seemed to naturally gravitate towards coffee), gesticulating wildly as he spoke to Trent and Justin.

"Why is Blaine on the counter?" Kurt muttered out of the side of his mouth.

Jeff shrugged. "He likes to be tall."

Obviously," Kurt managed to say before having the air totally knocked out of him by a certain flying, curly haired hobbit.

"!"

"What did you give him?" Kurt spat accusingly at the other three Warblers, who were all howling with laughter as he struggled to maintain some semblance of balance, ignoring the kisses Blaine was pressing into his chest.

"He's had a ton of coke. Like seriously, I'm surprised that he hasn't dissolved," Trent spluttered between gasps

Kurt stopped struggling with his boyfriend, too stunned to do anything but gawp at the four boys in disbelief. Coke? He knew the rich kid party stereotypes, but he didn't think that Dalton lot were really the type… However, given Blaine's current rather uncharacteristic behaviour, he supposed it sort of made sense. Didn't mean he approved. "Wait, what?"

"Want some?"

"Kurt only drinks diet," Blaine interjected, turning his head slightly so he wasn't muffled by Kurt's sweater, before Kurt even had the chance to vehemently refuse. Kurt looked at him in confusion for a moment, before he twigged.

"Oh, you mean the drink!"

"Yeah…" Justin laughed, shaking back his blonde hair, "Why, what did you think we meant?"

"No… I knew that, it was just… oh." Kurt was suddenly very grateful for his boyfriend's proximity – nuzzling his neck was a marvellous way to disguise the scarlet hue of his cheeks right now.

"Sure you did…"

Kurt was saved however by a distraction in the form of a loud crash and Greg shouting something totally intelligible.

"Looks like DDR is going well," Jeff snickered.

Kurt's eyes widened and he straightened up instinctively, all embarrassment forgotten. "David has a dance mat? Where?"

* * *

><p>Now that Kurt had arrived, Blaine had calmed down considerably. He was currently settled on a sofa in David's playroom, watching Kurt absolutely thrash Nick at Dance Dance Revolution, despite the fact he'd been playing for about three quarters of an hour straight. He hadn't even broken a sweat. Blaine couldn't help but think about where else such high stamina levels would come in handy – not like he could be blamed really, he was a teenage boy, and Kurt was moving his hips in a manner which was practically indecent.<p>

"I give up!" Nick cried, practically collapsing where he stood as the last notes played out.

"I won again," Kurt sang smugly, barely needing to look at the screen to see that – he'd gotten nearly 100% in every round he'd played so far and this time was no different. "Any more challengers?" He looked around the room expectantly. All the Warblers had come in to watch David vs. Kurt ten minutes earlier, and had stayed to watch Thad take him on before Nick, so now, rather wisely, none of them were volunteering. "No one?" He turned to Blaine with a pout. "Baby?"

"I've already played you three times. I'm not embarrassing myself again."

"Well you're no fun."

"Gutted, Blaine," Jeff chortled. "Might want to work on your satisfaction skills."

"Actually, I'll have you know that Kurt and I…."

"Okay, can we not go there?" Trent interrupted swiftly, "I only just ate."

David clapped his hands together awkwardly. "Shall we all play a game?" he suggested.

"Strip poker!"

"Again Jeff – gaydar going nuts."

"Strip monopoly?"

"How does that even work?"

"Jeff, we're not playing any game involving stripping."

"Oh."

"How about truth or dare?" Blaine stepped in, before Jeff said something really strange, "That's relatively harmless."

Thad snorted. "Are you forgetting Wes and the chicken incident?"

"Wait, there was a chicken incident?" Kurt asked, curiosity breaking him out of his minor sulk over his lack of willing DDR partners.

"We all in?" David carried on, ignoring the young countertenors guffaw. He was met with general approval, and his face cracked into a wicked smile, "Right, who's going first then…"

Nearly an hour, plenty of embarrassment and one chicken story (Kurt had used his turn to extract it from Wes) later, and the game was still going strong.

"Okay, Blaine…" Lucas trilled, afro wobbling, "I dare you to lick in between all of Justin's toes."

The group all descended into fits manic of laughter, excluding Kurt and obviously Blaine and Justin, as the Blaine crawled across the circle hesitantly.

"You better not have athlete's foot," he mumbled, before plunging his tongue down in the space between the big toe and second on Justin's right foot. Kurt shuddered as he watched his boyfriend lick swift figure of eights, to the jeers of all of their classmates. Blaine pulled away and gagged once he'd circled the little toe.

"Both feet!"

Blaine ducked his curly head again and repeated his movements.

"Gross," Justin wrinkled his nose once Blaine had finished, wiggling his toes.

"I'm going to need a toothbrush and water and a lot of mouthwash."

"There should be a spare under the sink in the guest bathroom," David stammered in between giggles.

"Whatever you do," Kurt instructed, grabbing Blaine's arm before he left, "Repeat it all like 4 times, else I won't kiss you for a month."

"I was going to anyway," Blaine reassured, before disappearing out of the room, still retching slightly.

Once all the laughter had finally died down, Ezra who was on Lucas' left reached for the empty coke bottle in the centre of the circle and span it. The Warblers all watched nervously as it slowed – Ezra was infamous for the most humiliating and disgusting dares, and to be honest, his truths weren't much better. This time, it was Nick whose luck abandoned him.

"Truth or dare, Nicholas," Ezra chirped over the victorious catcalls.

Nick contemplated it for a moment, before realising that really he was screwed either way. "Truth," he settled upon glumly.

Ezra grinned evilly. "What actually happened between you and Jeff last summer?"

Silence reigned for the first time since they'd all arrived. Both Nick and Jeff had completely frozen up, and Ezra was the only one still smiling. Everyone else looked curious or guilty or a mixture of the both.

"Ez…" David said slowly after a moment, "You can't…"

"Why not?" The large beat boxing Warbler shrugged, "Don't pretend like you don't want to know. Isn't that the point of this game?"

"But…"

"David," Nick interrupted. "Don't. It's fine. I mean, if it's okay with…" he looked to Jeff who had become very interested in his sleeve.

"Whatever. Not like it meant anything," he mumbled.

A look of sadness quickly flitted across Nick's face. He nodded, as if to assure himself, and took a deep breath before starting, uncomfortably aware of his friend's undivided attention. "We had been drinking with my brother and his friends all night, so were still a bit tipsy when we went to bed. I ended up falling out like four times, so climbed in with Jeff…." He laughed a little bit, then continued, "…We were close together, because he was trying to stop me rolling off. And then we kissed. But like Jeff said, it didn't mean anything. We were just drunk," he stared round at the circle, as if challenging them to suggest that there was something else behind it. No one did – no one even spoke for a few minutes. Finally Wes broke the awkward silence by reaching for the bottle and spinning it again. It landed on Thad, who hurriedly chose dare, as if by being really enthusiastic, he could reverse the effects of Nick's revelation (even though they'd all suspected something like that, to hear it confirmed was a different kettle of fish).

"What did I miss?" Blaine muttered to Kurt, re-joining the circle as Thad performed what was meant to be a seductive dance for Trent, although he looked more like a giraffe than anything.

Kurt looked to Nick, who was in turn staring at Jeff, who was laughing slightly too loudly at the goings on.

"I'll tell you later."

* * *

><p>When Kurt awoke the next morning, he was struck by an overwhelming stench of teenage boy. If Finn had left dirty socks under his pillow again, he was going to kill him. However he soon realised that rather than being at home on his nice comfy bed, he was instead curled up on a leather armchair, surrounded by snoring Warblers. Lucas was even drooling – this would make for brilliant blackmail.<p>

After cracking practically every joint in his slightly aching body and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he looked about the sleeping bodies for his boyfriend's curly head. He was nowhere to be found. Clambering carefully out of the back room, trying not to wake anyone, he padded through the kitchen, which was covered in discarded bottles and pizza boxes and half empty bags of snacks, into the lounge, which was considerably brighter than the other two rooms. Blinking several times, he soon located Blaine's form, propped up against the coffee table, mouth hanging open, still grasping the Wii remote. Wes' head was resting on his lap, face smooshed into his thigh, and Kurt was sorely tempted to take a picture. Then he realised that Mario Kart was still going and someone had to be awake and playing – else they were very skilled, to be coming in 2nd place whilst unconscious.

"Jeff," he croaked, his voice rough with the morning, "Have you been up all night?"

The bleach blonde head nodded from the sofa, not taking his eyes off the screen. Kurt waited for the race to finish before speaking again – he knew he wouldn't get any proper responses otherwise. When it was done (Jeff had placed 66h - he'd fallen off a mushroom on the last lap), Kurt tried again.

"When did the others fall sleep?"

"About half an hour ago," Jeff turned around to face him, his eyes completely bloodshot, "Blaine passed out mid race, and Wes didn't make it to the end either. Ezra managed a couple more games before he was gone. What's the time anyway?"

Kurt reached into his pocket and extracted his iPhone, which thankfully still had some battery left. "8.36am."

"Well crap," the other boy snorted, turning off the console. "I need another Red Bull."

"Jeff," Kurt followed him as he staggered over to the kitchen, "Jeff, are you okay?"

"Yeah," Jeff answered with his head in the fridge, "Why wouldn't I be, man? Are_ you_ okay?"

"I'm fine, I was wondering… after last night. In truth or dare. About Nick."

Jeff chugged nearly the entire can before replying. "Like I said, it didn't mean anything. I don't care. I'm not gay."

"But…"

"And I'm not in love with Nick," he added sharply, "Before you suggest it. We were drunk. Shit happens." He shrugged, gave a belch and tossed the now empty Red Bull towards the bin (and missed).

"But…"

"Kurt. Drop it."

Kurt obliged, seeing that Jeff was not in the mood to be messed with. And to be honest, despite all Blaine's gaydar jokes, he believed Jeff when he said he wasn't gay. Nick on the other hand… Kurt sighed. He wasn't going to force anyone out of the closet, but still. No one should have to go through that completely alone. He resolved to talk to Blaine, and see what he thought before doing anything, proud of himself for thinking before he acted for once. And speaking of Blaine…

Kurt made his way back through to the living room, leaving Jeff to his second can, and moved over to where his boyfriend was sleeping.

"Blaine, baby," he crooned, giving his shoulder a little shake, "Wake up."

"Mghfgsdf…"

"Blaine, time to wake up."

"Donwannooo."

"Blaine Anderson," Kurt snapped, losing patience with his snoozing boyfriend, adorable as he was. "Get your lazy ass up right now."

"I'm up!" Blaine cried, shoving the still sleeping Wes off of his legs and leaping to his feet. He promptly then lost his balance and collapsed into Kurt's arms. "Morning beautiful," he muttered into his chest sleepily.

"Morning Blaine," Kurt rolled his eyes, detangling their bodies and propping Blaine up on his own again.

"Owww… I ache all over," he whined, stretching out his back as he found his footing.

"That's what you get for falling asleep while playing video games."

"It's so bright in here… why is it so bright in here?"

Kurt gave a little laugh. "Get your things together; I'm going to take you home." Blaine nodded drowsily and gave an incoherent mumble as Kurt dashed into the hall to pick up his unused overnight bag. "Jeff," he yelled whilst putting on his shoes, "I'm taking Blaine home, tell David thank you and he'll pick up his car later."

"Sigdffg."

Kurt would take that as a yes.

* * *

><p>Kurt sighed in frustration as Blaine clumsily attempted to open the door to his house.<p>

"Are you using the right key?"

"Oh…"

The door gave a click and swung open, and Kurt couldn't help but smirk as he followed Blaine in.

"Where are your parents?" he asked as Blaine toed off his loafers and kicked them lazily across the hall.

"At my Gran's flower show," Blaine mumbled, "They'll be gone all day."

Kurt nodded smartly and made to move back out onto the porch. "Okay then. Well then, you go to bed and get some sleep, and then you can collect your car when they get home. I'll see you tonight, if you're still up for going to McKinley." He smiled affectionately at his still rather bleary eyed boyfriend, who was currently looking very perplexed.

"Wait… I thought you were going to stay?"

"What?" Now it was Kurt's turn to look confused.

"I thought we could…" Blaine peered at him with those beautiful (if slightly puffier than normal) hazel eyes, "Sleep together?" Kurt's face must have been a picture, as Blaine quickly corrected himself. "Not like that! No, I just meant, like physically… nap together, you know… Sorry."

"Don't be," Kurt exhaled, relieved, "Simple mistake. And… yeah. I'd like that."

Blaine smiled at him bashfully. "Okay. Do you want to come upstairs then?"

Kurt gave a little awkward nod, and took his boyfriend's outstretched hand, allowing himself to be towed upwards. He hovered, slightly unsure, when they reached the doorway to Blaine's bedroom. They didn't hang out as much at Blaine's house as they did at Kurt's, so not only was the place less familiar to him than was strictly comfortable, but there was something kind of strange about the thought of sleeping in Blaine's bed, with Blaine, both completely sober (if very exhausted) as boyfriends. Blaine looked slightly weirded out by it too, but it seemed like a good weird so Kurt drew himself and followed Blaine into his room, bag still firmly clutched over his shoulder.

"So…" Blaine released Kurt's grip and made a 'tadah' motion, "Welcome to my boudoir."

"I've been in your room before, Blaine," Kurt pointed out, laughing a bit at his boyfriend's dorkiness.

"True. Do you wanna…?" He gestured towards his en-suite, and Kurt smiled gratefully. He very much needed to wash off the night's grime, even though he was about to go back to sleep again. He crossed the room (which was very blue in its scheme – Dalton colours, Kurt noted with a mix of horror and fondness), and shut himself in the bathroom, which was positively gleaming for one belonging to a teenage boy. He quickly stripped off, and grabbed his flannel out of his bag, wiping off his face and body before putting on his red silk pyjamas and brushing his teeth. With one last glance in the mirror, he sashayed back out, where he was greeted by a slightly stunned Blaine. "Wow... You put my bed wear to shame." He pointed down to the ratty grey t-shirt he had on, with just a pair of boxers.

"You look surprisingly good as a bum," Kurt assured him with a smile.

"I'm not sure whether that was a compliment or an insult," Blaine chuckled. "Shall we?" he moved towards the bed, and Kurt noticed that he'd already closed the curtains. With a nervous swallow, he nodded, and followed suit, clambering in under the covers on the left hand side.

They lay there in silence for a moment, not touching before Blaine turned to face him. "This is odd, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"But I think I like it."

"Me too," he grinned honestly through the semi darkness, and saw his boyfriend was smiling back at him. It sent shivers down his spine – but the good kind. Everything about this was good, right down to the smell of Blaine which was engulfing him.

"Do you want to be the big or little spoon?" Blaine enquired, and Kurt could just make out his triangular eyebrows waggling as he said it.

"Neither… Can't we just cuddle face to face?" Kurt whispered back. Blaine merely scooted closer in response, wrapping his arms around Kurt's waist.

"Yeah. We can do that," he muttered before pressing a feather light kiss to Kurt's lips. "We can definitely do that."

* * *

><p>Even though Kurt had slept more the night before, it was Blaine who awoke first. He shot a glance over at the clock on his bedside table – the glowing red digits told him it was nearly 2pm. Smiling contentedly, he settled back down, watching Kurt's angelic face as he continued to doze in the half light of Blaine's room. What could have been a few minutes, hours, days, months or years later (hey, it may have sounded cliché, but Blaine was a cheesy person – although another look at the clock would have told him it had been about ten minutes) Kurt slowly opened one eye, followed shortly by the other, and gave a little half-grin.<p>

"Hey," he mumbled sleepily.

"Hey yourself. Sleep okay?"

"Uh-huh."

"Good," Blaine smirked. "I did too. We should do this more often."

"What, you pass out at 8am playing Wii at someone else's house, then me take you home and end up falling asleep in your arms?"

"Maybe just the last part." Blaine couldn't help but be impressed at his boyfriend's coherency considering he'd only been awake for about thirty seconds.

"Mmhmm," Kurt agreed, chuckling slightly. "Although it was kind of adorable, having to fasten your seat belt for you."

"Oh, shut up."

"Make me."

"Is that a challenge?" Blaine growled, before pressing their mouths together without waiting for a reply.

"Mmmph, morning breath," Kurt protested half-heartedly.

"It's not morning," Blaine pointed out, barely pausing in his attentions.

Kurt didn't press the point further, instead just letting out a little moan when Blaine opened his mouth and ran his tongue eagerly along the slight gap between Kurt's lips. Kurt happily responded, nibbling slightly at Blaine's lower lips before deepening the kiss. He lifted his hands to grip the back of Blaine's neck, his fingers knotting into the curls there, eliciting a delicious noise from his boyfriend as he gave a little tug. Blaine felt as Kurt smirked into his now very sensitive mouth, so began to suck gently on the boy's pointed tongue. He felt Kurt's resolve begin to weaken as he sucked harder, and flipped them over so that he was now straddling Kurt. He released his mouth, causing Kurt to whimper slightly until his breathing hitched as Blaine bit down, hard, on his shoulder and began to lick at the still slightly pink spot where his hickey had been.

"Not again Blaine," he managed to stammer weakly, "The forecast is good for this week."

"Sorry," Blaine mumbled, working his way back up to Kurt's mouth with a trail of light kisses. He pulled back and hovered over him for a moment. "God, you're beautiful," he said, before Kurt bought his head crashing back down, trapping his lips in a rough, passionate kiss. "So beautiful," he repeated, his words muffled by Kurt's mouth.

"You're not bad yourself." Kurt dragged his hands around Blaine's neck, then down his chest, over his well-defined pecs. "In fact, you're rather hot." He ran a thumb over his left nipple through the thin material of his shirt, feeling it stiffen under his touch. Smirking at Blaine's body's involuntary responses, he moved as head away from the pillow repeated his hand's actions with his mouth, allowing his teeth to graze at the tender skin, before paying the same attention to the other one. Blaine shivered above him, the whole bed vibrating with the movement and he slid his hands lowed from Kurt's waist to his perfectly rounded ass, their bodies pressing closer together as he gripped. Kurt groaned and thrusted upwards slightly, desperate for increased friction. Blaine was happy to oblige, but then he heard a loud and unmistakable grumble.

"Baby, was that… Was that your stomach?"

"No," Kurt lied as his digestive system gave another large growl.

"C'mon," Blaine laughed, pushing himself up off of a furiously blushing Kurt, "Let's get you some breakfast."

"But…" Kurt inclined his head slightly, not meeting Blaine's eye as he drew his attention to the situation in both of their crotches.

"Think of naked girls," Blaine suggested with a wink, clambering out of bed unabashedly. "It's not good to fool around on an empty stomach."

"Whatever, Doctor Anderson."

"Ooh roleplaying. Kinky."

* * *

><p>"Honestly, Blaine, I'm not fussed," Kurt insisted from his spot on the stool opposite where Blaine was rummaging through the fridge (it really was a very nice view), "Whatever's quickest."<p>

"Either you decide what you want, or I will make everything, which will take about fourteen times as long."

Kurt groaned and stood up to peer over his boyfriend's shoulder at the contents of the refrigerator. "How long would it take to cook and eat a bacon sandwich?"

"About fifteen minutes," Blaine shrugged.

"Make it twelve, and you've got yourself a deal."

Once four pieces of bacon were in the grill _(-No I'm not trying to make you fat, Kurt, two are for me silly-_), Blaine settled back to lean against Kurt's legs.

"So you never told me what I missed last night whilst I washing Justin out of my mouth," he murmured as Kurt absentmindedly played with his curls.

"Ew," Kurt wrinkled his nose in distaste, "I'd forgotten about you making out with his feet."

"Technically, just his toes. And don't worry, I used like a whole bottle of Listerine," Blaine laughed.

"It's still nasty. But yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that actually – Nick and Jeff kissed!"

"Again?"

"No, like 9 months ago - wait, you already knew about that?"

Blaine smiled a little bashfully. "Yeah…" he admitted, "Everyone knows something happened, but Nick told me the full story last year. He was really confused about it all, and I was the only gay guy he knew…"

"So is he actually gay?" Kurt asked with wide eyes.

Blaine just shrugged. "Don't think even he knows."

"Huh," Kurt sighed, "Well that's really sad for him."

"Mmm," Blaine agreed. "Reminds me how lucky I am to have you."

"Damn straight." Kurt pressed a hungry kiss into his neck as his appetite made itself known again. He was really beginning to get annoyed at being cockblocked by his own bodily needs.

* * *

><p>True to their deal, Kurt and Blaine shortly found themselves back in Blaine's room, stomachs satiated , filled with a completely different type of hunger as they eyed each other.<p>

"May I?" Blaine asked, taking a step forward and playing delicately with the collar of Kurt's pyjama shirt. Kurt gave a shaky nod and shivered as Blaine slowly began to undo his buttons. Blaine couldn't help but let out a low moan of appreciation as the silk fell away, revealing a porcelain, subtly muscular chest which was heaving with shuddering breaths. "Wow," he muttered, kissing Kurt tenderly as he snaked his arms around Kurt's waist so that he supported the majority of his weight in his arms and moved them back onto the bed, pressing Kurt down onto the mattress. He continued to kiss him slowly for a few minutes, before temptation proved too much and he moved his lips down to his boyfriend's bare chest. He planted open mouthed kissed down his ribcage, reaching the spot where his diaphragm was then flicking his tongue out. He began to trace around his abs with his tongue, writing Kurt and Blaine and lyrics over and over and over again whilst Kurt moaned and shivered with pleasure beneath him. It wasn't until Kurt began to repeat his name that he moved his lips north again, peppering kisses up Kurt's body until he was staring into those beautiful glass eyes, with pupils blown wide with lust. "Tell me what you want baby," he implored, voice deep and sultry.

"Skin," Kurt breathed, "Your skin against mine. Friction." He tugged at the bottom of Blaine's top, who lifted his arms in order for Kurt to work it off over his head. Sitting up, he used his weight to flip them over so that his legs were straddling Blaine's hips, their erections brushing together as he tossed the unnecessary clothing over his shoulder. He leant to place another brief kiss on Blaine, before pulling back hesitantly.

"Something wrong, baby?" Blaine asked, full of concern. Kurt shook his head, although the crimson colour of his cheeks implied otherwise. "What is it, Kurt?"

"I want to…" Kurt whispered before breaking off embarrassedly.

"Want to what, baby?"

"I want to touch…" Kurt nodded downwards, willing Blaine to understand without him needing to spell it out.

"Oh…" Blaine inhaled sharply. "Oh okay… Uh… Yeah… Please..."

Kurt smiled and kissed him again, deeper this time. "This is my first time doing this for someone else," he reminded him as he moved his way down Blaine's body, trailing his fingers through the smattering of hair that covered his chest, "So you have to tell me if I do something wrong."

"Okay," Blaine agreed shakily as Kurt torturously slowly peeled back his boxers.

As it turned out, Blaine didn't have to say anything. Although he would have to clean his sheets. And throw out his underwear.

* * *

><p><strong>Kurt Hummel<strong>: Thanks to **David Grant** for a dancerific Friday, **Blaine Anderson** for a lovely Saturday and then **Mercedes Jones** and all of the New Directions for a mind blowing evening!

(**Mercedes Jones, Rachel Berry** and **7 others** like this.)

**David Grant**: Really, Kurt? Dancerific? That's not a word.

**Mike Chang**: But it should be.

(**Tina Cohen-Chang** likes this.)

**Mercedes Jones**: Thanks baby 3

**Brittany Pierce:** But if ur mind's exploded, how r u still alive?

**Blaine Anderson**: So I wasn't mind blowing enough for you, eh?

**Kurt Hummel**: Of course you were, dear.

**Brittany Pierce**: Omg, r u a zombie?

**Jeff Barker**: I've said it before, and I'll say it again – you need to work on your satisfaction skills Blainey bear.

**Trent D'arcy**: And again, ew.

(**Finn Hudson** and **Wesley Hughes** like this.)

**Noah 'Puck' Puckerman**: In your end oh :P

(**Jeff Barker** likes this.)

**Kurt Hummel**: What the fuck Puck?

**Noah 'Puck' Puckerman**: Had to be said.

**David Grant**: Why did you tag me in this Kurt? All I've gotten out of this is more details about Blaine's pleasure to satisfy you sexually, a new word and a ton of notifications.

(**Mercedes Jones, Jeff Barker** and **10 others** like this.)

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Err, please review as per usual, because it makes me happy. The reason I put a bit of smut in there is because there are things going around saying there are going to be no Klaine kisses for the next few episodes, and my experiences say that when people are getting some action behind closed doors, they're much less likely to be displaying their affection publicly. Any questions or anything, then find me on tumblr - my url is untilrightaboutamazingoclock. Hope you enjoyed.**


	5. Wes Is The Ultimate Boyfriend

**Disclaimer: As per usual, nothing is mine. **

* * *

><p>"And are you sure about this?" Burt asked for about the thousandth time. Well realistically, t was only the 4th, but it felt like much more than that to Kurt as they pulled out of the McKinley car park in his father's pick up.<p>

He sighed and rested his head against the cool glass of the window. "Yes Dad."

"And you actually think that Karofsky has changed? He won't give you any more trouble? Honestly now, seeing as I've already agreed to let you go back." His voice was stern, yet almost aching with concern.

"Yes Dad. And if not, well Santana's around to keep him in check." Kurt restrained a snort at the thought of the fiery Latina, with her hair full of razors, holding his former bully on a very short, very gay leash. He could only pray to his Hermes scarf collection that whatever she was doing lasted. "But yes. I think he has changed. At least, he's changed enough."

"Okay," Burt nodded slowly, drumming his fingertips on the steering wheel as they rolled up to a stop sign. "Wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't check."

"I know, Dad." Kurt turned and smiled at his father, who returned it before realising that he had right of way and was actually holding up traffic, causing him to swear quite loudly as he pressed down on the gas. Kurt rolled his eyes, extracting his phone from his pocket and tapping out a quick message.

_Need to talk x_

He didn't have to wait long for a reply.

_Blaine – Oh my God, I suddenly feel really sick. I think I may have to miss the rest of the Warblers meeting so I can go home and sleep it off… Coffee shop in 20? Xxx_

"Hey, Dad – can I get a lift to the mall?"

* * *

><p>When Kurt arrived at the Lima Bean, Blaine was already sitting by the window, staring at a well-thumbed copy of To Kill A Mockingbird, although his eyes weren't moving across the page, with three coffee cups resting on the table in front of him. Kurt frowned slightly as he approached, in confusion.<p>

"Are we expecting company?" he asked as he slid into the seat opposite his boyfriend.

Blaine's head snapped up in surprise, Kurt's words breaking into his daze and he gave a sort of sad smile. "Hey."

Kurt returned his mumbled greeting before gesturing towards the extra drink again. "Company?" he repeated.

"Er, no," Blaine ducked his head guiltily, which only served to worry the countertenor further, "I've been here for a while, actually…."

"Am I late?" Kurt questioned, knowing full well that he wasn't. And thinking about it, it should have taken longer than twenty minutes for Blaine to get there from Dalton.

"No. I just completely skipped rehearsals. Waited for you," he offered in explanation. "Sorry for lying earlier," he apologised, not really seeming sorry at all. Just anxious really. "This one's yours," he nudged one of the paper cups across the table with his knuckles and Kurt was struck with an overwhelming urge to take Blaine's broad hands in his own, and just sit there forever (if not at least until the coffee shop closed), not saying anything.

But instead, he just picked up his cup and took a sip. His refined palette quickly identified that it had an extra shot of caramel than usual, and Kurt felt a fresh wave of guilt roll over him as he realised that that had been exactly what he had been craving without even realising. Blaine was unintentionally making this near impossible to do.

He sighed and raised his gaze to meet his boyfriend's. Blaine was watching him intently, the wistful half-smile from earlier still playing around his lips. Kurt was reminded of their conversation here a few weeks prior, when they had officially become boyfriends. Blaine had been staring then as well. It didn't feel fair – after months of pining after him, he only got a relatively short amount of time with his boyfriend at school, before leaving again.

_Man up, Hummel, _he told himself sharply, _it's not like you're breaking up. Just moving schools. You can both drive and you're both excellent sneaky texters. _He shook himself out a little bit before taking a deep breath. "Blaine, I'm going back to McKinley."

His expression didn't change as he nodded smartly in response. "When?"

"Friday is my last day at Dalton…" Kurt told him, slightly unsure of what was going on. He hadn't expected Blaine to have a nervous breakdown in the Lima Bean or anything, but he didn't really seem to care at all at that moment. And that stung.

"Oh, okay. Well that's alright," Blaine settled back in his chair, face stretching into a grin, so there was now no trace of sadness in his features. "Friday is good."

Kurt furrowed his brow in confusion. Why was Blaine acting so cool about all this? Sure, he hadn't been expecting a full blown melt down in the middle of the Lima Bean, but a little sign that he would be missed would be nice. If anything, Blaine seemed to have cheered up over the course of the conversation – not precisely the expected effect. "Wait, Blaine," Kurt blurted out before he could stop himself, "Do you understand what I'm saying? From next week, I'm going to be back at McKinley. That means not at Dalton. Not with the Warblers. Not with you."

Blaine chuckled a little. "It's hardly a difficult concept babe."

Kurt huffed. Didn't Blaine care at all? "Don't you care that I'm leaving?"

The smile abruptly dropped from Blaine's face as he realised what was getting Kurt wound up. "Kurt," he started emphatically, "Don't ever think I don't care. I care so much it hurts. I've just had time to get used to the idea," he shrugged and dropped his gaze away from Kurt's.

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked uncertainly.

Blaine shook his gelled head a little embarrassedly. "I may or may not have worked it out last night when you told me that you were going in today with your dad, and then promptly spent half the night crying. Maybe."

Kurt felt like his heart might just burst out of his chest at his boyfriend's sheepish admission. "Oh right," he nodded breathlessly, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as his pulse soared.

"And of course I'm happy that I have another couple of days with you. Plus the weekend to plan…"

"Plan what?"

"Your send-off…" Blaine smirked coyly, "You didn't think I'd let my extremely gorgeous and theatrical boyfriend swan off without a proper goodbye, did you?"

Kurt cocked an eyebrow. If the Gap Attack was anything to go by, this would be interesting to say the least.

* * *

><p>Blaine pulled up outside the Hudmel home and killed the ignition.<p>

"Thanks for the ride," Kurt smiled at him, unbuckling his seat belt and leaning across to plant a goodbye kiss onto his lips.

"Kurt," Blaine placed a hand on his chest, restraining him gently, their mouths hovering mere centimetres away from each other, "Will you promise me something?"

"What?" Kurt sighed, his cool breath tickling at Blaine's skin and sending shivers of temptation down his spine.

"When you go back," he whispered, lifting the pam which was not splayed across his chest to cup his boyfriend's smooth, porcelain cheek, "Text me."

"Huh?" Kurt let out a confused laugh, "Blaine, you're still me boyfriend. I promise to do much more than just text you."

"As lovely and _suggestive _as that sounds…" Blaine could see the blush spreading across Kurt's face even in the semi-darkness of his car, "Not quite what I meant."

"Well what did you mean?"

"Exactly what I said," Blaine explained, not caring that he was going to sound like an overprotective fool. "Just text me whilst you're in school. So I know that you're safe."

"What like, _still alive_, every hour on the hour? Bit morbid, isn't it?"

"No, just… tell me how your day is going or what monstrosity you've seen someone wearing. Or what you're wearing for that matter – sexting would certainly make Geography go faster…"

"You're bad," Kurt scolded, swatting at him lightly.

"Just interested."

"In the colour of my underwear."

"And what's underneath."

"So, so bad."

"You like it," Blaine muttered, pulling their faces close together and biting gently on Kurt's lower lip. "So, do you promise?"

Kurt nodded before snatching a brief yet passionate kiss.

"Just in case you're wondering," he sang as he pulled away and opened the passenger door, "Its blue today."

"What's blue?" Blaine called after his disappearing figure, sashaying up the sidewalk.

"My underwear."

And Kurt said he was bad.

* * *

><p>Blaine was feeling rather proud of himself. Apart from the evening last week before Kurt had even told him about the transfer, he had held himself together pretty well. Throughout telling the Warblers, Kurt's last day, planning their big goodbye, helping Kurt shop for a new wardrobe (read carrying his bags and making out in a changing room or four) and even hearing Finn gush about how much they'd all missed him and how awesome it was going to be over dinner on Sunday, Blaine's supportive smile hadn't faltered for more than a second. <em>It's what Kurt wants, <em>he repeated to himself over and over, like a mantra to keep him from being totally selfish and handcuffing Kurt to him. And it seemed to do the job.

Performing in the McKinley yard was so different to all those impromptu shows at Dalton – no polished wooden floors or panelled rooms with awesome acoustics. And Kurt, not in a navy uniform but a fabulous white, buckled jacket and black trousers so tight that they caused Blaine to gulp when he saw them and Jeff to make some comment about his boyfriend's future infertility (before being hurriedly hushed by Thad). He stood out from everyone else so much, and suddenly Blaine saw that it was never a case of fitting in with Kurt – however no one could argue that he didn't belong here. Blaine performed brilliantly as per usual, holding back tears and praying that his voice wouldn't crack under the wave of emotion which was flooding over him. Even when Kurt whispered those six words of reassurance in his ear and held him tight, his cheeks remained dry (even though his cheeks were a completely different story). Seeing the New Directions surrounding his boyfriend, all visibly delighted at having him back in their midst for good, even managed to bring a genuine, if rather shaky, smile to his face. But then again, seeing Kurt happy never failed to make him feel the same.

Then they were in the parking lot, and he was clambering into the backseat of David's jeep (who had wisely refused to let Blaine be one of the drivers in their carpooling road tripacross sate) and Kurt was out of sight, and they were leaving and there was nothing left for Blaine to do but sob. Wordlessly, Ezra slid across the bench seat and wrapped the stocky soloist in his arms, rubbing his back soothingly as his shirt was drenched in salt water.

Simultaneously, three of the four phones in the car went off as they joined the freeway.

"It's from Kurt," Wes announced cautiously, as if even saying his name would push Blaine over the edge and he'd start howling before melting into a puddle of his own tears. "Thank you so much," he read, "That really meant the world to me. I couldn't have asked for a better group of friends, and I will miss you all. Love Kurt."

"Well that was nice," David observed after a moment, seeing that the crying situation in his back seat hadn't worsened. Ezra made a little noise of agreement, not pausing in his attentions comforting Blaine.

Blaine wiped at his puffy red eyes as he felt his own phone vibrate in the front pocket of his blazer. Releasing his grip on Ezra with a watery, but grateful smile, he tapped at his screen to see that he too had a text from Kurt. Blinking away the tears that were obscuring his vision, he read.

_Thank you. I meant what I said 3_

And with those few words, a fresh waterfall was unleashed upon his face.

* * *

><p><em>You think I'm pretty, without any make…<em>

Blaine leapt across his bedroom and snatched up his phone, abandoning his Calculus homework mid question and hitting the accept call button before Katy had even finished the first line.

"Kurt…" he breathed excitedly down the line.

"Well someone's eager," his boyfriend's familiar chortle greeted him, "Didn't even get to the second ring! Don't you have a tonne of work to be doing or Gap employees to be serenading or something?"

"Nope, finished it," Blaine lied, "And the Gap Attack take two is tomorrow."

"Ah right, well, let me know how it goes!"

"Well, I may be too busy sucking face with him for a while, but afterwards, sure." Blaine fell back on his bed with a sigh, "How was your first day back?"

"I'm not four, Blaine. I have been to school before." Blaine could practically hear Kurt's eyes rolling. "And I don't know why you're so confident of your flirting through song skills."

"Worked with you."

"That doesn't count – it took you like forever to actually act on it."

"Still, it worked."

"Fine, well, in six months you'll have a valid excuse for missing dates because that's when you'll finally kiss him."

"Why are we talking about this so calmly?"

"I do not know. Let's change the subject."

"So, how was your first day back at McKinley?"

Kurt sighed. "Do we have to?"

"Yes."

"But I've just spent the last hour going over this with my Dad."

"You can give me a summary," Blaine suggested, determined to get something out of Kurt, who true to his word had texted him the words 'still alive' every hour, on the hour.

"I sang in Glee club. Brett hadn't even realised I'd gone. No-one bothered me. Happy?"

"Very," Blaine smiled, extremely grateful that Kurt couldn't see the truly ridiculous expression of joy he was currently sporting. "But who's Brett?"

"My other boyfriend. He's not as attentive as you, but the boy sure can use his lips," Kurt joked. At least, Blaine thought he was joking. He seriously hoped he was joking.

"I don't like the sound of him."

"No, he's not as easy on the eye as you are either."

"You might just have to settle for me then."

"Yeah, I can't be too greedy."

"No, that wouldn't be fair."

The boys settled into silence, pausing in their banter just to listen to each other breathe.

"I really missed you," Kurt whispered after a few minutes.

"I missed you too," Blaine murmured back.

"I kept on expecting to see you waiting at my locker."

"I went to save you a seat at lunch."

"Everything I saw reminded me of you."

"I sobbed into Ezra's shirt after we left you."

"Blaine, I wish you could be here with me."

"Mmm," he agreed quietly, "I just wanna be with you so bad right now."

"I wish you could come to McKinley with me," Kurt admitted, his voice barely there.

Blaine didn't have a response to that.

* * *

><p>It got to Saturday, and even though they texted constantly and spoke on the phone every night, Blaine was still feeling absolutely rubbish without Kurt around at school. They'd planned to spend the day together, but Kurt had ended up having to take Finn prom shopping under very strict instructions from Quinn (-<em>I'm so sorry baby, but if he gets it wrong, she will castrate him, and Carole wouldn't be too happy-<em>), so Wes and David had ended up stepping in to rescue Blaine from a spiral of lovesick despair (their words not his).

"C'mon, Blainey bear," David prompted gently as they made their way through the Westerville mall, "What do you want to do?"

"I'm missing my boyfriend, David, not a sulking toddler."

"Isn't that pretty much the same thing?" Wes pointed out, earning him a clip round the ear for his insensitivity from his fellow council member.

In the end, they headed towards the food court, unable to think of anything else to do (plus David's stomach kept on growling loudly).

"You cannot tell Brooke about this," Wes instructed them as they collected their orders from Burger King, "She's making me go on some crazy detox with her where pretty much all I can eat is steamed vegetables and raw fish."

"Hence the extra-large bacon double cheeseburger with fries and onion rings."

"Hey, don't judge me Blaine," the Asian boy defended himself as they searched for an empty table in the heaving court, "I'm spending the night at hers – I'll only be eating carrots in various forms for the next 24 hours!"

"Whipped," David sang under his breath laughingly.

"Says the boy who drove three hours each way to buy his girlfriend a book."

"It was a first edition!"

"It took you seven hours total!"

"Well excuse me for caring about my girlfriend's birthday! It was only one day – you're the one who's got to choose between eating rabbit food and not getting laid for the rest of forever…"

"At least I'm getting some!"

"Well at least Anna wouldn't have to set down a rule about not bringing a gavel into the bedroom!"

"Whoah, guys," Blaine interrupted, stopping them before the fur could start flying, "Is that Jeff?" he gestured across to where he'd caught a glimpse of bleached hair.

"Is he with a girl?" David spluttered. Blaine did a double take – he'd been so grateful for the distraction that he hadn't noticed that Jeff had company. And it was definitely a girl.

"Is he on a date?" Wes laughed disbelievingly, "Let's go say hi!" He had already begun to dart in between tables before his friends could stop him.

"Crap," Blaine muttered, tugging at David's sleeve as they followed him.

"Jeff!"

Jeff and his date turned around to see where the call had come from, giving Blaine a chance to properly take in the girl's appearance. Her hair was thick, wavy and long, almost down to her waist, and blonde, although significantly darker than Jeff's. Her eyes were a pale blue-grey, with a darker ring around the outside of the iris, and her skin was somehow pale yet golden at the same time. She was pretty – there was no other word for it. On Monday, they would all say she was too pretty for Jeff and tease him mercilessly. Hey, that's what friends were for.

"Oh, hey guys," he gave a little wave, looking kind of apprehensive, "What are you doing here?"

"Getting lunch…"

"Oh yeah," Jeff chuckled nervously, "Duh."

His date gave a little laugh, "Aren't you going to introduce me, Jeff?"

"Right, uh, this is Blaine, Wes and David…"

"We're in the Warblers with Jeff," Blaine explained extending a hand, "Pleasure to meet you."

"I'm Alice," she said with a smile, fitting her dainty palm in with his, "I've heard a lot about the Warblers."

"All good I hope?" David offered.

"Ha, you wish," Jeff snorted, "You guys are the bane of my life."

Alice rolled her eyes, "Apart from some complaints about a gavel, it's all been very complimentary. Why don't you sit with us? This place is crazy busy."

Jeff opened his mouth to protest, but Wes had already pulled up a chair. "Well, thank you Alice. Don't mind if we do." Jeff sighed resignedly and shot his friends a warning glance before resuming picking at the pizza slice in front of him.

"So Alice," David started, "You're not at Crawford are you? My girlfriend…"

"And mine," Wes interjected.

"And Wes' are there, and I've never seen you at any of their functions."

"No, I'm at Trinity," she specified, "In Galena. I don't think I could pull off the kilts."

"You could pull off anything," Jeff told her, smiling in a way which was clearly intended to be sweet and romantic. Instead, he sort of looked like a duck, but Alice didn't seem to mind.

Wes snorted. "You're worse than Blaine."

"Hey, I'm not that bad!"

"You're fairly bad," David reasoned.

"There's nothing wrong with being nice," Alice laughed, "I bet your girlfriend appreciates it, Blaine, even if this lot don't."

The four boys exchanged glances as Wes tried (and failed) to repress his sniggers.

"What? Did I say something wrong?" Alice picked up on the change of atmosphere and looked to Jeff anxiously. "Oh my Gosh, I always end up putting my foot in my mouth, I'm so sorry, whatever I said!" She apologised swiftly.

Blaine raised a hand good naturedly to silence her. "My_ boyfriend_ does appreciate it actually."

Alice flushed bright red, right up to her roots. "God, I am so sorry!"

"Don't be," Blaine smiled, "Kurt's the obviously gay one in our relationship."

"What does that make you, the macho one?" Wes spluttered through his laughter, hiccupping as he spoke, "The macho Katy Perry loving, hobbitish one?"

"I can be macho!"

"Of course you can, Blaineybear."

They had come the full conversational circle back to Wes' forced diet when Alice excused herself to use the restroom. She had barely moved out of ear shot before the three dark haired Warblers pounced on Jeff.

"So is this like a date?"

"How did you meet her?"

"Is this your first date?"

"Have you kissed her yet?"

"Was she a good kisser?"

"I like her. You should ask her out again."

"Guys!" Jeff shouted, gaining them a lot of attention from the surrounding tables, "Shut up for like one second!"

"Sorry," They chorused, not really looking sorry at all.

"Okay," he sighed, dropping his voice back down to a normal decibel, "In answer to your questions – well, it was a date, until you three crashed it. I met her when I was picking my sister up from ballet; she's her teacher. No, it's like our fourth."

"If you haven't kissed her yet…"

"Actually, I have Wesley. And yes, she was a good kisser."

"What about my question?" Blaine ventured, pouting slightly.

"That wasn't technically a question," Jeff pointed out, "But for your information, I was going to ask her out like officially today, but then you guys came along and started talking about your relationships, putting the pressure on, and then Wes scared me!"

"Not all girls are crazy – just Brooke," David reassured him, "I'm sure Alice won't make you eat nothing lettuce. At least, not until you've been together for a while.

"That's really not helpful," Jeff groaned, burying his blonde head in his hands.

"Brooke's not crazy all the time…"

"Way to defend your girl, man."

"Listen, Jeff," Blaine stepped in before they could get into another argument about their respective partners, "If you like her, then just tell her. You've been on four dates – she clearly has some pleasant feelings towards you."

"But not here," Wes contributed in an attempt to be helpful; "The food court is hardly the most romantic place."

"Kurt and I made it official in a coffee shop."

"That sounds like you did it on the counter or something."

"But that was you and Kurt," Jeff continued, wisely choosing to ignore Wes' last comment, "It was a matter of when, not if with you two."

"And if I'd realised sooner I would have had more time with him before he transferred back," Blaine sighed.

"And I wouldn't have had lost that bet to Nick."

"You were betting on us?"

"Everyone was," David informed a rather disbelieving Blaine, "I made forty bucks out of you guys kissing before Regionals."

"What!"

"Guys," Jeff protested, "Not the time – she'll be back any second! And you guys need to go."

"Oh charming."

"We are a bit of a romance killer mate," David pointed out.

"Pah! Nonsense!"

Jeff turned to David and Blaine with a desperate look in his eyes. "Please get him out of here…"

* * *

><p><strong>Jeff Barker<strong> is in a relationship with **Alice Marks.**

(**Nick Lynch** likes this.)

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Right, so I'm not such a huge fan of this chapter, because it's kind of angsty. But oh well - let me know what you think in the reviews, which I am extremely grateful for by the way! This is going to be the penultimate chapter, as I have a big bunch of exams coming up, but keep your eyes peeled for one shots and more stories that I will hopefully get a chance to write. **


	6. A Promise to Nick Lynch

**A/N: DUN DUN DUN! IT'S THE FINAL CHAPTER! Sorry about the wait and all. Please review and let me know what you think of it all. I shall be writing other stories, and I've already got a couple of ideas floating around so keep an eye out. Now I can finally get on with my exams! Enjoy!**

**A/N TAKE 2: So I accidently put up chapter 4 again. What a plonker! I'm sorry y'all! Thanks for pointing it out though.**

**Disclaimer: See previous five.**

* * *

><p>Kurt settled back happily against the cushions of the sofa. He'd finished all his work for the weekend within an hour and now had the rest of the evening to do as he pleased. He picked up his phone and typed out a quick message to Blaine to see if he wanted to hang out. The reply was almost instantaneous.<p>

_Sorry babe, wish I could but I have a huge geography essay due in tomorrow and I'm not even a quarter of the way through __xxx_

With a sad sigh, Kurt sent back assurances that it was fine. There were things he missed about Dalton (mainly the high quality of cafeteria food and the lack of slushie machine) but the huge amounts of work they got set was not one of them.

Seeing Blaine everyday was.

"Why the long face, Hummel?"

Kurt leapt about a foot in the air. "Oh GaGa, Puckerman! You can't just sneak up on people like that!"

"Sorry," Puck flopped down next to him, beaming in a most unapologetic manner.

"What are you even doing down here?" Kurt huffed in his signature haughty fashion, "I thought you and Finn were blowing each other up on his Xbox or something."

"We were, but then Quinn called, all worked up about something about massages or corsages or garages or something," the mohawked teen explained, "And as interesting as it is to listen to Finn stammer down the phone confusedly, I thought I'd come down here and get some snacks. Then I heard you sighing about all mopily, so," he poked Kurt in the thigh, rather hard, "What's got your panties in a wad, Kurty boy?"

Kurt raised one eyebrow disbelievingly. "Do you really want to know?" Puck gave a little shrug as if to show he had nothing better to do, which Kurt took as Noah language for 'tell me all the dirty details'. "It's Blaine…"

"Do I need to kick that little prep boy's hobbit ass?"

"No, no," Kurt laughed, strangely touched by the offer even if it was completely unnecessary. "His ass is fine the way it is. I just miss him, that's all…"

"And his ass?"

"You're so sex obsessed Noah. But yes," Kurt confessed with a roll of his eyes.

"Get some Hummel," Puck extended his hand for a fist bump, which Kurt begrudgingly obliged. "If you miss him," he continued after flexing out his fingers and making a hissing noise which almost had Kurt checking him for a leak. "Why don't you just see him?"

"It's not that simple, Puckerman."

"Relationships are hardly rocket science. Even Finn manages to sustain one."

Kurt groaned. "Sorry, how is this meant to make me feel better?"

"Just telling it how it is," Puck pushed himself up off the couch. "If you miss sucking face with your little gay dwarf, then make some time to see him and get your mack on. Do you want some Doritos dude?"

Wordlessly waving off the last part, Kurt processed what Puck had said. Huh. He'd never thought he'd take advice from someone who had tried to steal an ATM, but yet again here was Noah Puckerman revealing hidden depths and wisdom.

A loud belch echoed from the kitchen, providing punctuation for his last thought.

Then again, maybe it was just a fluke.

* * *

><p>It didn't take long for Blaine to notice Nick's absence at the Warbler's usual table at lunch. Of course, not all the Warblers sat there all the time, but Nick did pretty much every day. Plus, he was never found that far away from Jeff, who was currently regaling Ezra and David with some crazy tale involving his brother's BMX and his sister's Wendy house, hence why the distinct lack of Nick struck Blaine as rather odd.<p>

"He went to the library to do some Spanish work, I think," Trent offered through a mouthful of casserole when Blaine enquired if anyone had seen his fellow junior. With a curt nod, Blaine quickly shovelled his last few bites into his mouth before leaping to his feet.

"Right, I need to talk to him about that," he excused himself, not caring about the crumbs he'd most likely just sprayed everywhere as he began to power walk towards the dining hall doors. "See ya."

"But you don't even take Spanish," he heard Wes call after him as he threw a wave over his shoulder and darted out into the hallway.

Thankfully, when he reached the library, he was able to locate Nick almost immediately – in a room full of boys studying hard, the one with a table to himself, face down in his textbook with his arms splayed across the wooden surface in most likely the one who's recently had his heart broken into a thousand pieces.

Blaine gave Nick's ribs a gentle prod. The boy didn't respond, so he poked him again, slightly harder – if he was genuinely asleep, then at least, by waking him, Blaine was saving his work from being drooled on; if not then he might as well let Nick know that some one was there to provide much loved company for his misery. "Hey," he murmured quietly as he slid into the empty seat next to him. "Whatcha doing?"

A muffled response came from within the open pages, which Blaine could just about make out as 'world civics'. He peered at the partly exposed paper, trying to make out the work in between Nick's dark locks.

"Very calculusy looking civics…"

"What do you want, Blaine?" Nick sighed wearily, turning his head slightly so that the soloist could actually hear was he was saying. Blaine was pleasantly surprised by the boy's appearance – although he looked slightly paler and more drawn than usual with blueish circles beneath his eyes, he'd been expecting (in the nicest possible way) something much worse. When Justin had broken up with his girlfriend, he'd suffered from 'awful hay fever' for two weeks, despite the fact it was November.

"Wanted to see how you were doing," Blaine answered truthfully, "I was worried – you always sit with us at lunch."

Nick sat up straighter and ran a hand through his already tousled hair. "I'm fine, Blaine," he insisted gently.

"So why are you in here?" the shorter boy gestured around the expansive and ancient library, "Like I said, you always…"

"Well maybe things change, eh?" Nick interrupted angrily, mood suddenly snapping, ignoring the whole 'quiet in the library' protocol. "Maybe I actually have a life outside the Warblers?"

"Doing school work?"

"We can't all ace everything without even trying, Blaine."

"Right," Blaine cleared his throat and nodded before continuing, "Because it sort of seems like you might be here because Jeff isn't. In fact, does he even know where the library is?" he watched Nick's reaction carefully, hazel eyes full of concern.

Nick let out a bark of half-angry laughter. "Probably doesn't," he conceded. The two settled into a silence which was neither awkward nor comfortable, stemming from mutual understanding. Blaine knew how Nick was feeling, and Nick knew Blaine knew – didn't mean they had to immediately acknowledge it.

Soon, the clock struck the hour and as was swiftly becoming habit for him, Blaine reached into his blazer pocket and pulled out his phone, waiting. Thirty seconds passed before it finally buzzed.

_If I burn someone's hair off because it is a crime against good taste and style and not looking like you tipped a plate of spaghetti on your head, could it be considered a citizens arrest? Xxx_

"Kurt?" Nick inquired knowingly as Blaine sent back assurances that their family attorney was rather excellent and if that failed, he would bust him out of jail either way.

"Is it that obvious?"

"It was either that or you'd turned into the Cheshire Cat." There was a pause as Nick contemplated the ramifications of his next sentence before taking the plunge and asking anyway. "Do you miss him?"

Blaine nodded a little sadly. "More than I thought was even possible," he admitted, "I haven't seen him since we performed. "That's over 168 hours..."

"It would have been easier to say a week."

"Doesn't change the fact that it's been ages, and I really miss him."

Nick made a sympathetic noise with his tongue. "That sucks dude."

"Yeah," Blaine sighed. "It does. C'mon…" he stood up, gesturing that Nick should do the same. "We're going for a walk."

"But I'm doing…" Nick began to protest, even though he knew it was fruitless.

"Bull. All you're doing is moping, and we can do that outside, in the fresh air."

"But…"

"I promise that we'll take the route avoiding the dining hall. Or any place Jeff might be loitering." Blaine's tone was gentler this time as he extended a hand to the younger boy.

With a rebellious mumble, Nick hauled himself to his feet and scooped his abandoned work into his messenger bag. "You're a pain in the ass, Anderson."

"But the good kind."

"I wouldn't know – don't want to encroach on Kurt's territory," Nick deadpanned, earning him a cuff upside his head.

"So," Blaine began as they reached the library entrance and turned, walking the opposite way to the direction he'd come in. "Has he told you much about her?"

Nick shrugged in a failed attempt at nonchalance. "I knew that he was seeing her. But it's Jeff – how was I supposed to know it would last longer than a couple of weeks this time? It never does with him…"

"So he didn't tell you he was planning on asking her out?"

"I found out through Facebook, like everyone else," Nick sneered, his voice an unfamiliar mix bitterness and sorrow and a far cry from his usual happy-go-lucky, if slightly reserved, self.

Blaine found himself feeling extremely grateful that they were now passing into the entrance of the walled courtyard; the horde of freshman clustered in the first alcove gave him the perfect excuse not to respond for the time being. He wished Kurt was there – although not necessarily the most sympathetic, at least he always had some form of advice for these kinds of situated. Thankfully, unlike most of the Dalton boys, Blaine didn't have a massive case of foot-in-mouth syndrome, but he was hardly a Casanova like figure when it came to romance. If whatever was going on with Nick and Jeff could even really be considered a romance.

"Did you ever tell him how you felt?" Blaine probed gently once they were out of hearing range of any nosey 14 year olds.

Nick snorted harshly. "No."

His triangular eyebrows knitted together in a frown. "Why not?"

"Hardly fair is it?" Jeff sighed heavily, "I don't even know how I feel and I'm putting all that on him? He gets confused enough as it is already, without adding me and my sexuality adding to it…"

"What is your sexuality? If you don't mind me asking," Blaine added hastily, very conscious of how strained the boundaries of their friendship were swiftly becoming.

The taller boy let out another derisive laugh. "If I knew, this would all be much easier." He shuddered and shook his head. "I don't feel anything even vaguely like this about anyone apart from him. Not girls, boys, sea monkeys… Since I was fourteen, it's only been him, and it just drowns out everything I ever felt before so that I can't even remember their faces."

"So it's like you're Jeff-sexual?"

"Like telling him that wouldn't inflate his huge ego even more. Or send him running for the hills," Nick sighed. "Blaine, I appreciate what you're trying to do – really, I do. But the fact of the matter is, Jeff is straight, and always will be. Nothing I can say or do will change that, even if I wanted to."

"But you kissed," Blaine reminded him unnecessarily, "That had to mean something."

Nick lifted his head, so that Blaine could see the tears that had suddenly begun to gather in his dark eyes. "No, it doesn't Blaine. I'm not Kurt and he's not you. He won't one day realise his feelings for me, and all my dreams won't come true. "

"Nick…"

"I've accepted that. It hurts like a bitch, but I've accepted it, okay? I need you to believe me when I say this."

"I do, but Nick…" Blaine was silenced by the weight of the other boy's body slamming into him and his arms wrapping solidly around his waist. He stood there, slightly stunned, for a moment before beginning to rub small circles into Nick's back as he shook against him.

"Promise me something, Blaine?" he sobbed into his shoulder.

"What?" Blaine stammered slightly overwhelmed by this turn of events, yet still determined to be supportive.

"Don't ever let Kurt forget how much you care."

Blaine shuddered underneath Nick's weight as he struck with an overwhelming longing to see his boyfriend, to hold him so tight it almost hurt, to kiss away all the pain he'd ever had to go through, to just sit there and be dazzled by his glasz eyes, tracking their colour changes along with Kurt's emotions, turning them bright blue with lust, listening to him hum contentedly under his breath. Just to be with him again, and never let him out of his sight if he could possibly help it.

"I promise."

* * *

><p>Blaine nearly forgot to switch off the engine in his desperation to get out of the car. Once he had (and double checked that he'd locked it), he practically sprinted up the driveway, beam widening as he passed Kurt's Navigator. He'd left Dalton as soon as physically possible, figuring that what with all the end of school traffic, he would make it to the Hummel-Hudson residence just after Kurt got home from Glee rehearsals. Although he would have been willing to wait on the doorstep all night, he was extremely grateful (and a little proud) that he'd timed it right and his boyfriend appeared to actually be home.<p>

Blood rushing through his ears, he impatiently pressed at the doorbell and hopped from foot to foot anxiously. After what seemed like about three years but was realistically more like twenty seconds, the door finally swung open and Blaine's heart stopped for a moment. It seemed silly, but Kurt seemed to have become even more beautiful in the seven days since he'd last seen him. He was dressed simply (for him) in a tight red checked jacket and black skinny jeans, a white undershirt peeping out too, with his hair swept up into a tousled quiff and a slightly bemused smirk on his face which only served to make him sexier.

"Blaine," he laughed in surprise, "What are you doing here?"

Not entirely trusting himself to form coherent sentences, Blaine simply darted forward and pressed a brief, dry kiss to the corner of Kurt's lips. "Hi," he managed to stammer as he stood in his boyfriend's doorway, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Kurt stared back at him momentarily before closing the distance between them again and flinging his arms around Blaine's neck and hugging him tight.

"I am so glad to see you," he murmured, his mouth lightly caressing the contours beneath Blaine's earlobe.

Blaine smiled into his boyfriend's shoulder, happily inhaling the crisp, almost fruity scent of his cologne and committing it to memory. "Me too. To see you, I mean." Kurt just giggled and nuzzled his head further into Blaine's shoulder. "I missed you baby."

"Who's at the door, Kurt?" Finn chose to bellow just then, utterly ruining the moment, "If it's people selling stuff, tell them to go away. Unless it's pizza."

Sighing, Kurt pulled away from their embrace to holler back. "Who sells pizza door to door?"

"I don't know," Finn grumbled, padding out into the hallway, "Awesome people. Oh." He stopped and gave a kind of half wave. "Hey Blaine. Did you bring pizza?"

"Finn!" Kurt leapt in, leaving Blaine to bite back laughter, "For one, I've told you about a million times, I'm making mushroom and salmon risotto for dinner tonight. And second, you had pizza last night. And for breakfast this morning!"

"Well, you left some over…"

"I swear, when your skin finally breaks out because of all the grease you put in your body, I won't lend you any of my skin care products!"

"Whatever," Finn huffed, seeming sort of annoyed even if he probably didn't fully understand what his stepbrother had just said to him, "You staying for dinner, Blaine? We're having rice-satti apparently."

Blaine looked to Kurt, who stopped rolling his eyes to nod at him enthusiastically.

"I can't think of anything better."

* * *

><p>Try as he might to focus on not chopping his fingers off, Kurt was finding it night on impossible to attention to his now rather finely sliced mushroom. He kept on finding little excuses to turn away from the task at hand and turn to peek at the dark haired beauty perched on his kitchen counter. He knew that Blaine wasn't doing it on purpose, but every little thing about him, from the slightly squiffy angle of his tie where he'd loosened the knot, to the swinging of his legs and the constant low chatter which filled the air around him as he filled Kurt in on what had been happening at Dalton, was entrancing the countertenor further, distracting him from his dinner preparations.<p>

"….And then he got stuck and David had to tape together four metre sticks to even get close to him!"

"And what did you do to help your friend in his hour of need?"

"Oh, I was on the other side, laughing."

"So charming," Kurt drawled sarcastically as he began to stir the freshly cut vegetables into the creamy, thick sauce. "Can you pass the pepper, babe? It should be just behind you."

"Nope."

"What?"

"You'll have to come get it," Blaine smirked, folding his legs up onto the side and sliding backwards.

"You're such a child," Kurt chided good-naturedly, wiping his hands on a tea towel and taking a step forward.

"That would make you a paedophile."

"Whatever…" the slightly younger boy smirked, running his hands up the inside of Blaine's splayed thighs, nails dragging lightly over the material of the Dalton slacks. "Now gimme."

"Where are your manners?"

"Gimme please."

Blaine simply stuck his nose in the air and made to wriggle away from his boyfriend's touch. "Shan't. You'll have to pay me for it now?"

"Oh yeah?" Kurt smirked.

"One kiss for every dash of pepper."

"Well," Kurt shrugged his shoulders and pretended to contemplate the offer, "I don't really need to use it, I suppose…" pouting, Blaine caught him by the wrists and tugged him in closer.

"Tough shit," he muttered, breath tickling at Kurt's lips, "Cos I want one anyway." Before Kurt could object, Blaine had pressed their mouths together into a warm, open mouthed kiss. Kurt practically dissolved on the spot, all thoughts of spices forgotten – he'd missed this. Blaine's fingers clasped at the material at the back of his jacket as he unwound his legs, taking care not to jog Kurt's hands from their journey up the inside of his thighs, and wrapped them around his waist, minimising the distance between their bodies. Kurt sucked gently at Blaine's lower lip, eliciting a delicious, almost guttural moan before plunging his tongue back into his boyfriend's familiar mouth. Blaine couldn't help but gasp as long, delicate fingers brushed lightly over his crotch on their way to untuck his shirt. Slowly, teasing, Kurt worked the hem of his white oxford free from his trousers and ghosted his thumbs across the newly exposed skin of Blaine's lower abdomen. With another low hum, Blaine shifted his weight, allowing easier access to his body and arching his neck.

"I forgot how much of a slut you are sometimes, babe," Kurt murmured before turning his head to nip at Blaine's jaw, palms tracing over defined stomach muscles which rippled against his touch.

"Only for you." Blaine shuddered as cool hands slid around his sides and dipped, dancing down his spine before settling on his tail bone and beginning to lightly massage there. As much as Blaine _really _didn't want Kurt to stop what he was doing, he also didn't particularly want to melt into a puddle of hormones on the kitchen floor either. He settled for moving his hands up to the back of Kurt's neck and crashing their lips back together in a fierce and clumsy kiss.

There was the loud rumble of an engine being cut out in the drive. The two teenagers froze, still pressed far too close together to be considered innocent, listening carefully.

"Boys!" The front door slammed, followed by the sound of footsteps moving down the hall towards them, "I'm home."

"Crap," Kurt swore quietly, breaking their embrace and leaping backwards.

"No, no, no, no," Blaine protested, grabbing desperately after him, racking his brains for the unsexiest things imaginable as he slid off the side.

"Blaine!"

"Kurt!" Blaine nodded downwards, sighing gratefully as realisation dawned across his boyfriend's already blushing face.

"Oh!" he scurried back over so that he was blocking the offending area of Blaine's body, finding himself anchored there by an arm casually threaded around his waist.

"Hey sweetheart, something smells good..." Carole popped her head around the kitchen door. "Oh hi Blaine," her greeting was accompanied by a surprised yet knowing smile as she took in their swollen lips and slightly rumpled clothes, "Didn't know you were coming over tonight."

"Slight change of plan," Kurt admitted guiltily, "Is it okay if he stays for dinner? I made enough…"

"Of course," Carole nodded happily, "Your dad won't be home for another half an hour or so, by the way. So, I'll just leave you, uh, to it."

Kurt seemed to be only capable of stammering weakly at is stepmother's retreating figure, cheeks flushed with a fresh wave of embarrassment. Blaine let out a groan as soon as she was out of earshot.

"For someone who claims to have no sex appeal, you're a damn tease when you want to be Hummel."

"What?"

"Do you know how hard it is to cool off with you fidgeting about like that?"

"I was nervous!"

"Yeah, nervously grinding your ass into my thigh."

"Blaine!" Kurt protested in hushed tones, swatting at him. "Save it for later!"

Blaine raised a triangular eyebrow. "Is that a promise?"

Kurt couldn't help but let out a little whine as the warm weight of his boyfriend's body was lifted off him, just when things had begun to get heated – Blaine's shirt was hanging half open, they'd just manage to work him out of his own rather constricting jacket, and Kurt was rather enjoying himself (true to his word). At least he had been until they inexplicably stopped.

"What the…" Blaine hovered over his chest and ran one of his fingers over the thick black lettering there.

"It's our Glee assignment for the week, now c'mere..." Kurt tried to pull Blaine back down to him (there was no way he was being cockblocked by anything to do with New Directions, no matter how rude the name sounded), but unfortunately his boyfriend wasn't letting this one go, choosing to settle back on his thighs instead.

"It's your class project to walk around with a shirt on which professes that you like boys?"

Kurt sighed and propped himself up onto his elbows. "It's only for the Born This Way number. I did tell you…"

"Not that you'd be advertising your love for men on your chest."

"You have seen my wardrobe, right?"

"Still," Blaine pulled a slightly sulky face, "I'm not a big fan of the plural."

Biting back giggles at this new, possessive edge to his boyfriend, Kurt shifted their positions so that they were now both sitting up, pressed close, with Blaine straddling his lap. "I wasn't born crazy about you," he told him, pressing feather light kisses along his cheekbones as he spoke. "But if the song was called Emotion That Dominates Most Of My Thoughts All Day, Every Day, my shirt would definitely say likes boy. Likes Blaine. Likes you…" he punctuated each statement with another press of his lips to Blaine's salty skin. "And it would be so true."

Blaine beamed, face splitting so wide that it would have been ridiculous if it wasn't so damn heartfelt and adorable. "Mine too. Well, likes Kurt, not likes Blaine. Obviously..."

"Just shut up and kiss me, Blaine."

He thought about his conversation with Nick that say and the sheer heartache in the boy's dark eyes. As he met Kurt's contrasting glasz gaze, and pledged internally to honour his promise to Nick for as long as Kurt would allow. And he wanted to kiss him and was being asked to kiss him, and even if he wouldn't admit it out loud for a while yet, he was falling hard. Falling so, so hard for this beautiful boy and this was just practice for what was hopefully the rest of their lives.

And Blaine knew that practice made perfect.

* * *

><p><strong>Blaine Anderson <strong>likes Kurt.

(**Kurt Hummel, Nick Lynch **and** 4 others **like this)

**Wesley Hughes**: Again with the not real news on my news feed guys!

**Brittany Pierce: **I like him too

**Kurt Hummel**: I like you too boo.

(**Brittany Pierce** and **Blaine Anderson** like this)

**Blaine Anderson**: Wait, are you talking to me or her?

**Blaine Anderson:** …

**Blaine Anderson: **Kurt?

**Brittany Pierce**: It was me.

**Noah 'Puck' Puckerman**: AWKWARD

(**Lauren Zizes** likes this)

**Kurt Hummel**: Don't worry, I like all of you equally.

**Noah 'Puck' Puckerman**: In different ways I hope, cos Finn told me about the moans coming from your room…

**David Grant**: At least you haven't had a live viewing.

**Kurt Hummel**: Serves you right for spying.

**Blaine Anderson**: Right, well you've all tarnished my lovely status. Hope you're happy.

**Noah 'Puck' Puckerman**: We are.

(**David Grant, Lauren Zizes** and **6 others** like this)


End file.
